#just a woman who’s begging to be loved and the woman who’s begging to love her

[shawtylex09]

Hi it's me again :3 Is it okay to request some more bunny izuku? I literally see everyone writing about him it's so addictive. Maybe some head cannons of him, how he acts and stuff or even how he gets during heat can be nsfw. You can come up with any scenario. Whatever you prefer mwahh<3

-🐇

You ask and I will de-LIVER.

Keep requesting bc your asks are the best I stg.

Anyways. Obv smut below, all characters 18+, minors DNI.

More Bunny!Izu x Fem!Pro hero!reader

Masterlist

Here’s your banger, I didn’t forget dw

Enjoy ✧˖°.

🌸❤️‍🔥

Head cannons;

B!Izuku I feel like, would be the sweet type of brat, like, don’t get me wrong, he’s a sweetheart; but he’s also a brat in the most ANNOYING ways.

B!Izuku definitely steals and hides your things. He does and I think that’s a universally accepted thing. Anything that’s yours is his, and you accepted this a while after you brought him into your home, even making a little game out of trying to find and get your things back.

B!Izuku loves when you cook for him, and even started to eat bits of pork thanks to the way you make it, making katsudon his favorite meal after trying the pork cutlets you put on the plate, he was surprised at how much he liked it.

B!Izuku is SPOILED and I will never stop saying it, you buy hin whatever he wants. He has his own room, his own phone, video games and consoles, posters, mangas, art supplies- fuck- you even bought him a hand signed All Might figure in mint condition (that costed a pretty penny fr fr.)

B!Izuku will pout at you, and he does that shiet all the time. If you won’t let him on your bed with you? He’s pouting, if you scold him for taking your keys and making you late for work? Pouting little bunny boy.

B!Izuku basically never even sleeps in his own room, always sleeping in bed with you, mumbling sleepily about how much he loves you and is thankful for everything you do for him.

B!Izuku gets really bad heats- like..bad. He’s in heat for no less than a week, and his body will tremble all over, his breaths heavy and legs barely supporting him. He whimpers and whines, begging to still sleep with you in your bed, even though he knows you say no every time.

B!Izuku who is extra bratty during his heat, maybe even a bit rude. He’s petty for sure. If you don’t help him relieve the pain he’s in, he’s gonna be extra sassy, despite his breathless tone and shaky body.

B!izuku definitely lays in your bed when you’re at work, his hips grinding into your mattress as he moans pathetically into your pillows, gripping the sheets and rolling his hips like a desperate animal.

B!Izuku can cum so many times and still not relieve himself, constantly being erect and having his nerves on fire.

B!Izuku gets so desperate during the last few days, pathetically whimpering and shaking in your bed, begging- pleading for help.

Until you give in.

✮˚.⋆

You walked into your shared apartment from work, sighing tiredly as you did so. You slip off your boots and look around. Everything is intact, good, Izuku didn’t decide to mess up the living room or anything just to spite you.

Speaking of..where is your bunny?

You sigh, figuring the worst as a tired deadpan falls onto your expression. You knew it wasn’t Izuku’s fault that this happened to him each month, it was like a woman going through ovulation…on steroids…

A heavy sigh left you, despite knowing it wasn’t Izuku’s fault, it still left you feeling irritated. He was already bratty enough, he certainly didn’t need to be uncontrollably horny on top of that.

You finally muster up all the will and strength you have left, before pushing yourself in the direction of your bedroom.

There he was, sitting on your bed and crying, his head thrown back and teeth gritted as his body trembled. He looked like he was - at the very least - extremely uncomfortable.

“Izuku?” You spoke out into your room, feeling a twinge of guilt in your chest as you watched the sweet boy writhe. “Y-y/n- please..it hurts” he looked over at you, his eyes half lidded and flooded with tears.

You bit your lip.

You were a hero, meant to save people, and yet your sweet bunny boy was in pain.

Fuck.

A click left your door as you closed it behind you, a second following it as you locked it. “It’s alright Zu” you spoke softly, taking off your jacket and tossing it onto the floor.

Izuku barely registered what was happening as he felt the bed dip next to him. His hands instantly reached out for yours, grabbing one and placing it on his hard bulge, expecting you to pull away like you usually did.

This time, however, your hand began to rub at the ache, making Izuku’s eyes widen, then roll back as if your touch was a gift from god himself.

You laid on your side, propping yourself up with your elbow as you began to soothe the burning pit in his stomach. “I’m sorry, Izuku” you murmured quietly, a hand finding his fluffy ear that was folded back. You gently scratched his ear while wrapping your hand around his clothed dick.

“Y-Y/n! Ah..fuck- just like that-“ a little bit of drool teased his bottom lip, his head falling back against the sheets “so good- it’s so good..mmh”

You smiled a little, he didn’t look like he was in pain anymore, which made you feel a lot better.

Izuku continued to moan and femininely whimper as you jerked him off through his shorts, before finally grabbing the hem of them, and his boxers. With a pull, they came down to his thighs, his thick and hard cock springing free, the smooth tip touching his abdomen.

You blushed a little, especially as Izuku looked at you with his fucked out face, his eyes heavily hooded and his lips parted “please- please mommas..please suck my cock”

Your eyes widened in shock, feeling a spike of arousal shoot through you. His face, his tone, his words- it was all so lewd. You looked down at his thick shaft. It was probably around 6-7 inches, a good length with an impressive girth.

You swallowed, feeling saliva pool in your mouth as you looked at the pre-cum beading at the slit of his cock head.

You shifted to kneel on the bed before his thighs, your throat and mouth dry as you leaned down, softly kissing his tip.

Izuku gasped quietly and placed a hand on your head, running his fingers through your hair “please” he whined “don’t tease me, please” his tone was- honestly pitiful, but you understood why, so, you leaned down once more; this time, taking the puffy tip into your mouth, lightly sucking on it.

Izuku let out a soft moan “yes- yes Y/n- fuck” his eyes rolled back in pleasure, and his head fell back, his hips slightly rolling up as he tried to inch himself more into your mouth.

That was all the coaxing you needed, before you began to bob your head, his thick cock making your lips stretch around it, the veins dragging up and down your tongue, and the taste of pre flooding your mouth.

You were a little rusty, it had been a while since you’d been with anyone, but once you got into a rhythm, Izuku was falling apart at the seams under you.

The poor bun couldn’t think clearly, a hand cover his mouth as he gasped and writhed, his thighs spread wide and lifted slightly with the tension in his muscles. His eyes were screwed shut, and his brows furrowed.

His chest messily rose and fell, his jaw dropped and gasps leaving him. How were you so damn good at this? He had no idea, nor did he care. Izuku shakily opened one of his eyes to see you focused on him.

One of your hands gently kneading and massaging his tight, full balls; the other was wrapped around the base, occasionally stroking, while your head bobbed and your mouth sucked.

His eyes rolled back and he clenched his jaw “I love you!” He squealed, making you cough on his length and pull yourself off, sputtering from your surprise and accidentally deep throating his entire dick.

He whined in protest, before his eyes widened.

He had not meant to say that.

“I-I’m sorry- I- I just meant-“ “I love you too.” You smiled at him, and his eyes widened “you love me?” Did he hear you right? His fluffy ears twitching a few times to ensure he wasn’t crazy.

You had just told him..you loved him too.

“Of course I do” you leaned down and ran your tongue up the side of his cock, before kissing the swollen tip “I don’t give just anyone head, you know”

Izuku shuddered and bit his lip “fuck- I’m gonna cum just from that” he whispered, referring to your teasing, yet meaningful words

You simply laughed, before taking his hardened length back into your mouth. Izuku arched his back, his ears folding back against his head. It felt so much better knowing that you felt the same way about him, and he had to restrain himself from busting right there.

“God- yes! I love you! I love you so much! Baby! Mommas! I’m gonna- c-cum- fuck~!” He cried out, his thighs trembling and coming up to wrap around your shoulders.

And cum he did.

With a loud moan and your name on his lips, he came, and he came hard.

You gagged a bit as his load shot into your throat and slightly dripped onto his cock, trying to swallow as much as you could.

You pulled away from his cock to greedily gasp for air, the sheer amount of cum in your throat making your eyes water as you coughed “J-Jesus- C-Christ-“ you sputtered between coughs.

Izuku trembled under you, his cock finally softening and not feeling needy, like it had been for the previous week.

He felt so tired, not having the energy to make a comment as you collected yourself and picked him up, smiling a little down at him “cmon bun, let’s get you in the bath.”

Izuku simply nodded and rested his head against your chest, shaking slightly and sighing, so thankful to have you in his life.

He’d have to return the favor some time.

⋆˚☆˖°⋆｡° ✮˖ ࣪ ⊹⋆.˚⋆˚☆˖°⋆｡° ✮˖ ࣪ ⊹⋆.˚⋆˚☆˖°⋆｡° ✮˖ ࣪ ⊹⋆.˚⋆˚☆˖

Part 1.

[premiumbitch]

۶ৎ LIGHTS, CAMERA, ACTION!: MARILYN MONROE MANIFESTATION & SCRIPTING PACK ˙⋆.˚

I KNOW I already made a Marilyn Monroe one, but I had someone requested I make one with the structure of my old theme, so enjoy this second Marilyn Monroe scripting/manifestation pack <3

♯┆BEAUTY.ᐟ

Your beauty is a whispered sonnet, a flickering candle in a dimly lit dressing room—soft, radiant, and intoxicating, like a secret only the stars know.

Your platinum waves are spun from moonlight, cascading in soft, velvety curls that frame your face like the delicate petals of a blooming gardenia.

Your skin is silk kissed by the glow of old Hollywood spotlights—luminous, porcelain, untouched by time, as if the heavens themselves sculpted you from light.

Your eyes hold the secrets of a thousand love stories—deep pools of mystery, glimmering with a softness that could melt even the coldest of hearts.

Your lips are poetry in motion, painted in the deepest shade of red—soft, full, beckoning, like the last lingering note of a love song.

Your lashes are long and delicate, fluttering like the wings of a butterfly caught in a golden hour breeze, each blink an unspoken promise.

Your cheekbones are kissed by the gods, sculpted yet tender, catching the light in just the right way, as if you were made to be adored.

Your scent lingers in the air long after you’ve left—warm vanilla, crushed roses, and a touch of something forbidden, like a whispered “stay” in the dark.

Your silhouette is the definition of femininity—curves that dance with every movement, a body carved by love and poetry, soft yet powerful.

Your hands move like a dream—delicate, slow, enchanting, whether lighting a cigarette, adjusting the strap of your silk slip, or blowing a kiss to the night.

Your voice is a lullaby wrapped in honey, breathy yet commanding, a whisper that carries the weight of a thousand untold desires.

Your presence is magnetic, as if you were made for the silver screen, a dream dipped in champagne, a vision that lingers long after the credits roll.

Your beauty isn’t just skin deep—it seeps into the way you move, the way you love, the way the world seems softer, warmer, more golden when you’re around.

♯┆AURA .ᐟ

Your aura is a candlelit secret, a love letter written in crimson ink, a fleeting moment of magic that lingers like the taste of strawberries and champagne.

You move through the world like a dream wrapped in silk, exuding an effortless grace that makes time slow, as if the universe itself wants to watch you a little longer.

Your presence is warm, inviting, yet untouchable, like a shooting star that dances across the midnight sky—brilliant, breathtaking, but never meant to be caught.

People are drawn to you, not just because of your beauty, but because of the way you make them feel—special, adored, as if they too belong in a love story.

You exist in a state of gentle contradiction—soft yet strong, delicate yet untamed, an angel with a devil’s smile, a siren wrapped in silk and stardust.

You are the embodiment of old Hollywood glamour, not just in appearance, but in spirit—a woman who knows the power of mystery, allure, and a perfectly timed glance.

Your laughter is like a champagne toast—effervescent, intoxicating, the kind of sound that makes people want to live a little more, love a little harder.

You make the world feel cinematic, as if every streetlight is a spotlight, every sidewalk a red carpet, every stolen moment something worth remembering.

There’s an innocence to you, yet a knowing—like a starlet who has seen the world, felt its weight, yet still chooses to believe in love, in dreams, in magic.

You are the soft flicker of candlelight in a grand ballroom, the hush of velvet curtains just before the show begins, the final note of a song that leaves people breathless.

You do not beg for attention—it follows you, like a shadow, like a love-struck admirer who cannot look away.

You leave a mark on people’s souls, not just their memories, like red lipstick on a white collar—a presence that refuses to be forgotten.

♯┆SMARTS .ᐟ

Your intelligence is quiet but undeniable, a knowing glimmer in your eyes, a soft smile that says you understand the game better than anyone.

You navigate the world with the charm of a siren and the wit of a queen, understanding that true power lies in grace, mystery, and knowing when to let them wonder.

You are a strategist wrapped in satin, a thinker disguised as a muse, a woman who can shatter illusions with nothing but a perfectly timed pause.

You see people as they are, not as they pretend to be, reading them like a well-loved script, knowing their lines before they even speak them.

Your mind is a work of art—quick, adaptable, endlessly creative, the kind that can turn dreams into reality and heartbreak into poetry.

You are a lover of beauty, of art, of words, but you also know their weight, their power, how they can shape worlds and shatter hearts.

You understand that silence is sometimes louder than words, that a glance can be more powerful than a speech, that a touch can change the course of a story.

You are not just a dreamer—you are a doer, a believer, a creator of your own destiny, never waiting for permission to become legendary.

You know how to make life look effortless, how to make success feel natural, how to turn even the most difficult moments into something beautiful.

You balance softness and strength with the ease of a woman who knows she was made for more, who refuses to settle for anything less than magic.

You are proof that femininity is not weakness, that love is not foolish, that kindness is not naivety—because you, above all, understand that power comes in many forms.

You think like a star, dream like a poet, and move like a woman who knows the world is hers for the taking.

♯┆PERSONALITY .ᐟ

You have the kind of presence that makes the world stop for just a moment, as if even time itself wants to watch you a little longer.

Your laugh is golden, the kind that makes people feel lighter, like the air itself has been laced with something sweet and intoxicating.

You love like a classic romance—wholeheartedly, passionately, with a touch of tragedy, as if every kiss is a scene from a film that will never be forgotten.

You are kind in a way that feels rare, genuine, the kind of kindness that makes people believe in goodness again.

You are playful, flirtatious, a walking contradiction of innocence and knowing, a woman who understands her power but wields it with grace.

You carry yourself like a dream wrapped in silk, your presence both comforting and thrilling, as if being near you is like living inside a love song.

You are the kind of person people write about, the kind of soul that lingers in poetry, in film, in memories that refuse to fade.

You make everything feel like an adventure, whether it’s dancing barefoot in the kitchen or whispering secrets under city lights.

You embrace the art of living, knowing that beauty is in the details, in the way you smile, the way you move, the way you turn an ordinary moment into something cinematic.

You are the embodiment of romance—not just in love, but in life itself, in the way you see the world, the way you make others feel.

You are timeless, ethereal, an enigma wrapped in pearls and perfume, forever leaving behind a whisper of something magical.

You don’t just exist—you glow, like the last flicker of a candle, like a star that refuses to fade, like a name that will never be forgotten.

[judesmoonbeauty]

Lover's Contract: Jude Jazza - Premium END

This is a fan translation only. Please expect grammatical errors and translation inaccuracies. This is a full translation. Creative liberties are taken for characterization and smoother translation process. Cybird owns everything. Re-blogs are appreciated, but please do not post my translation elsewhere. Thank you for your support! ☾.

The steamboat’s whistle vibrates into the late night air.

Carrying the target couple, the boat leaves the harbor.

Eventually, the outline of the ship, illuminated by the lights, disappears into the foggy darkness.

Kate: The boat’s gone.

Jude: Let’s head back.

As soon as we observed the elopement, Jude flipped his coat and turned his back to the sea.

Kate: …..Was this a punishment?

I muttered as I gazed out at the sea, only for amethyst eyes to look back at me.

Jude: Dunno.

Jude: Kinda people d’ya think they are?

After observing them I noticed —  How they held their glasses with sophistication, and the way they spoke and laughed with elegance.

(Even observing their confident demeanor, poise and mannerisms…..)

Kate: Those two….are likely nobles of very high social standing.

Kate: They didn't seem servile at all, and looked like people who grew up loved by their families.

Kate: I hate to say this, but there was such a sublime air about them that it’s hard to believe that they’d commit infidelity…..

Jude: Seems like yer eyes ain’t so rotten that they’re blind.

Jude: Right then, let’s suppose yer assumption’s spot-on.

Jude: Whatsit mean fer ‘em to abandon their homeland?

(If those two are who I imagine them to be —)

Abandoning their beloved families and hometowns would be an extremely heavy, and painful punishment for the two of them.

(In return for hurting their families and choosing love, they must abandon their hometowns.)

That’s the crime and punishment they committed.

Kate:….Those two only have each other now.

When I think about how they tossed away everything, and boarded the boat with only the clothes on their backs, my heart swells.

Jude: Plus, it’s easier bumpin’ people off from such respectable families abroad.

Jude: Don’t matter how they die, s’gonna be ruled an accident.

Kate: WHAT, isn’t giving up their homes the punishment?! Don’t say something so dreadful….

Jude: Huh? Weren’t ya wonderin’ if it was a punishment?

Jude: So, I just came up with the plausible endin’.

Jude: But even after I toldja, ya still complained. Yer bein’ too selfish, Princess.

Jude grumbles and starts walking.

Kate: Ah, please don’t leave me behind.

He glanced at me as I quickly stand next to him.

Jude: Ya can stay the night ‘n ponder alone.

T/l note at the bottom due to length.

Kate: I’ll go back with you.

Jude: With me, ya wanna be with me that bad?

Kate: Um, well…I like being with you.

I feel flustered hearing something like that out of the blue.

Jude: Speakin’ of, ya said “We’re together because we can’t completely fill the emptiness”.

(That’s what I said when I was consoling the woman target…!)

Kate: H-How do you know that, Jude?!

Jude: Yer so loud. Obviously, I was listenin’.

Kate: You were listening?! S-Since when?

Jude: That guy still had feelin’s fer her, so I went t’go get ‘er, he bawled ‘n begged.

Jude: Then ya were havin’ some drawn out chit chat on the balcony.

Jude: So, whose line’s that? I read all the scripts when I was investigatin’ the theater troupe fer the mission the other day.

Jude: That line, “Love is something you can’t get enough of, it’s also something you can’t give enough of.”

Jude: Don’t remember seein’ it.

(Yeahhh….that look, this means he knows everything.)

Kate: Just like you said Jude, those lines being from a play is a lie.

(If he knows, there’s no point in hiding it anymore.)

Love is something you can’t get enough of, it’s also something you can’t give enough of.

Those words -

Kate: I was just ad-libbing…..or rather, my feelings were spilling out for you, Jude.

Jude and I gaze into each other’s eyes, we touch each other, and repeatedly share our body’s heat.

Each time we do, I feel my heart filling with love.

But at the same time, my feelings for Jude grow more intense with each passing day —

(I could no longer say that loving you or receiving your love was "enough".)

Kate: I became greedy, after experiencing your love.

Kate: I want to love you even more. Jude, I lov—

The unfinished words melted between overlapping lips.

Jude: What’s this switchin’ back to bein’ a girlfriend without permission. Yer my lover ‘til the mission’s done.

Kate: But the targets are sailing on the ship, so the mission’s basically over…..

Jude: Ya don’t get it.

Jude’s eyes flicker alluringly as he gets closer.

Jude: Ain’t no way I can letcha go back lookin’ like that.

Kate: Looking like what….?

Jude: Like a woman in heat. Yer lil heads filled with unspeakable thin’s, ‘n what’s with all the questions?

Jude: If yer tryin’ to cover up yer perverseness, yer wastin’ yer time.

Jude: I know better than anyone, just how much ya want it.

The instant the whisper falls into the soft spot of my heart, it gets excited and pounds loudly…..

Kate: …..Mmn, haa.

His hand reaches the back of my head and firmly pulls me in.

— Only Jude and I are aware of the echoing sounds that lost in crashing waves.

[Event Master List] [Epilogue]

Translation Note: Jude uses "tasogare," meaning 'Twilight'. In archaic Japanese, it literally means "Who's there," and it was used back then because it was hard to tell who was who in the dusk. So, they'd say "tasogare" or "who's there". I thought the etiology was pretty cool. However, it's also a colloquial term used for those who spend the twilight/nighttime to think in depth. So, I decided to translate it this way.

It's so cute how Kate is learning to read people like Jude does, I love that so much!

Tag List: @sh0jun @theimaginativelyreticent @sapphire-323 @velisle @nateko @greatwitchsongsinger @injudescoat @aeyumicore @complexivelovely @yuoi-the-magnificent @husbandosandladders @cosmowgyral @lunaaka @rosalyne08 @8the-perfect-lie8 @voydsoul @goustmilk @kraiyne @midnightsrunaway @nawlink

If you wish to be added (and 18+ YO), or removed from my translations tag list, please let me know!

[semisolidmind]

Ok how bout' this

What if Reader had a villager boyfriend who sadly had to travel to another place for buisiness but promised to Marry her after he comes back, juste imagine how devastated he is when he Sees what the Monkey King and His general did to His village, and how determined he is to dare set foot in his palace to save Reader after learning what they did with HER

(NOT writing for lmk right now, but this has been sitting in my drafts for a while and it's already pretty long, so it'd be a waste to just delete it.)

deepest apologies to this hypothetical man, but there's really no way he's ever gonna see reader again.

however, let's entertain the idea that this guy is so dang devoted to reader that, after traveling for a bit and figuring out who's responsible for his entire town's dissapearance, he's determined to get her back.

let's say this guy manages to not only find a magical island (that most folks aren't even sure really exists), get onto the island and past the lower level of defenses (tough terrain and wild animals), sneak past the sentries, and get close enough to the water curtain cave to find reader; all without being spotted. perhaps she's sitting beneath a tree, reading, minding her own business, not expecting him at ALL,

and then there he is. he tugs at her hands, pulling her up and with him. he tells her in a rush that he's come to free her and that they should leave right now, c'mon we gotta go—!

but reader pulls back. her heart is pounding a mile a minute, fear for her once-partner striking her nerves. if her husbands find him here, trying to pull her away...she doesn't want to imagine what they'll do to him. he'll never see the light of day again, that's for certain. reader doesn't want to see another blameless mortal die because of her.

despite the pain in her heart, reader pushes the man away. she tells him he has to leave without her, that attempting to take her back will only get him killed.

but he insists that because he's come this far, she must go with him. he's braved so many dangers, all for her and their promise. the man is practically begging reader to go, still tugging her in the direction of the beach.

reader shakes her head, tears gathering in her eyes. she implores him, please, to just go, forget about her and leave this place before—!

reader gasps.

speak of the devil.

the imposing figure of sun wukong lands heavily behind her former love (who at least has the common sense to look scared out of his mind). the demon makes quite the chilling image; the deadly angles of his paldrons and the imperious, quiet sway of his cape and headress all lending themselves to the visage of a cruel warlord.

the monkey king's eyes burn with rage. he comes home, ready to see his beloved wife, only to find this...unkempt, filthy, desperate mortal man putting his hands on her. he can see that his wife has been upset by this vagrant.

wukong begins to pull his staff from behind his ear, planning to remedy the situation immediately.

reader can only hope that her begging will be enough to save the hapless human man before her. so, she gets right to it.

reader throws herself into a kowtow at her husbands' feet. she pleads with the seething demon, attempting to get him to see reason. this act stuns wukong long enough for him to catch some of what she's saying; he vaguely remembers her speaking of this "fiance" during he and his brothers' time as her little companions, and they rarely saw him. they never liked him, obviously. he stole their peaches' attention from where it ought to be. wukong wants to just kill him, but...

he looks to the woman still kneeling at his feet. he sighs. he can deny her nothing.

his poor, sweet, tender-hearted peach.

wukong pulls reader up. in hushed tones he tells her to never, never kowtow to him like that again; especially on behalf of someone so undeserving. she is his queen. he doesn't want to see her lower herself in that way.

he gathers reader to him, angling her away from her past suitor. then, he turns to the fool who somehow made it to his carefully-hidden island home unscathed. looking the bedraggled human up and down apprasingly, wukong gets an awful idea. he smirks.

the monkey king, so impressed by the man's bravery and devotion, will allow him to live at his queen's request...on one condition.

he must either leave immediately, never to return...or, should his devotion run so deep...

he must beat one of reader's husbands in a fight, fair and square.

so, what will reader's doomed former fiancé do?

ending a: the man foolishly takes the bet.

reader panics and begs him to reconsider: doesn't he know who he just accepted a challenge from? how little his chances of success are?!

the man ignores her, confidently (or as confidently as he can given the circumstances) staring the monkey king down. the simian ruler states that if the man can beat either him or his brother in a fight, no powers, just brute strength and skill, then they'll let reader return with him to the mainland.

now, the man did his research before coming to the island. he knows who's in charge of this island, knows his legends, his strength; he leveled the man's entire town for gods' sake.

but the man feels as though he must fight. at least for his own honor and pride, if not reader's as well. and, in perhaps his most idiotic decision yet, he comes up with an idea he believes will make the fight easier.

he agrees, not to fight the monkey king, but his brother instead.

reader smacks a hand to her forehead (the action drawing a laugh from her husband). she can't believe her former fiance's stupidity. it stands to reason anyone associated with, let alone related to the monkey king would be impossibly strong (or, at the very least, much stronger than a normal human).

although, she supposes she can't fault the man entirely. macaque is discreet in all his dealings (his "shadow general" moniker comes from more than just his powers). she figures the foolish oaf must not know who the darker-furred monkey demon is, and what he's capable of.

the six-eared macaque is summoned, already aware of the situation, and the combatants, the king and queen, and a few (many) spectators make their way to the arena.

to his credit, the human man is doing a very good job at hiding the tremble in his hands. having been offered a fine selection of weapons, the man holds a sword. reader tries once more to convince the man to give up, citing that a few years of weapons training with a local retired military general when he was a teenager does not equate to magically enhanced strength and thousands of years worth of experience in every weapon imaginable.

but the man doesn't listen. he's got something to prove now, and nothing reader says will sway him.

with a sigh, reader resigns herself to the fate the man has chosen for himself. she can't help but remember that he was like this when they were still in the village, too; never listening, always assuming the way that things were was simply how they had to be. she cannot help him now, and so she makes her way back to her kingly husband's side. he grins at her when she sits down, and she shoots him an admonishing glare in response. he laughs fondly at the look.

the duel goes the way one could expect.

though the man is clearly trying his best, he could never have hoped to make even a dent in the shadow generals' defense. the difference in skill is laughable. macaque chose a simple staff as his weapon, and though the man's sword is sharp and quick, it's nothing in the face of the monkey demon's expertise.

macaque is clearly playing, allowing the human to get just close enough before dodging nimbly out of the way. he doesn't even have to use his powers. this is nothing more than a silly game.

and eventually, the shadowy simian grows tired of his playmate. after a short time landing a few blows (purposefully feather-light so as not to kill, just bruise), macaque lands a hit so hard it throws the man across the arena. the battered human hits the wall with a noise that makes reader wince, and falls to the dirt.

the crowd starts to get rowdy as their second in command stalks towards his exhausted, near-dead prey. the poor fool can barely lift his head, and his arms quake from exhaustion.

macaque is more than happy to dispatch this interloper before the gathered spectators, and throws a quick glance over his shoulder to make sure reader is watching. he won't say it, but he can't help but think that if he had found the man before wukong, none of this would've been necessary. the human would already be dead for the crime of attempting to steal his wife away.

but, macaque supposes, a little show couldn't hurt, could it?

he raises his staff, and in a move almost too quick to see, swipes it under the comatose human to toss him into the air. the demon jumps after him, then smacks him to the dirt below.

the human that was once reader's fiance is little more than a bloody pile of broken bones and torn flesh on the ground.

macaque lands gracefully beside it, stands, then bows to the crowd.

the applause drowns out reader's little sob, though both her husbands hear it clearly. there are no tears that they can see, however, and they know it's more their darling peach's aversion to violence that makes her cry than any real attachment to the corpse before her.

she did her best to convince him to leave peacefully, wukong coos to her, holding her hand and nuzzling the side of her face.

it's not her fault that he foolishly chose his pride over his life.

macaque jumps up to where reader and wukong sit, grabbing reader's attention and her hand.

he reaffirms wukongs point, telling her that the man decided his own fate, which is more than what he deserved given the circumstances.

the dark-furred demon presses a gentle kiss to reader's hand, and she can feel his satisfied smirk against her skin.

ending b: the man, in perhaps his smartest move so far, mournfully flees for the beach.

reader sighs in relief. at least he was wise enough to take the out that was handed to him, she thinks. she looks to wukong and quietly thanks him for letting the man go.

wukong smiles gently at his wife. he laughs the situation off with a joke and urges her to banish it from her mind. with a kiss, he sends her back into the stone palace.

the monkey king's smile fades when his wife is out of sight. he looks out to the unending sea beyond the islands' sands. if he leaves it alone, that same sea will likely kill the interloper with no added effort on his part.

he's not content with that idea. so, wukong stands there for a long while, and watches as the boat and its treacherous passenger get further and further away.

the man's boat floats to the horizon before the monkey king whispers a command only his ever-listening brother can hear.

kill him.

the king sees the far-off speck dissapear beneath the waves into a dark, swirling portal.

with a grin, he banishes the whole affair from his mind, turning with a flourish to join his wife in their palace.

[weirdgenetic-fuckup]

PLEASE I WANT A PART 2 OF THE STORY WHERE JAMES CHEATS ON READER, IT'S SO GOOOD.

A/n: I AM SO HAPPY PEOPLE LIKED THE FIRST ONE BECAUSE I LOVED IT also I started writing this in class and almost started crying

It shouldn't be too confusing I don't think but it might be trying to read it idk it made sense in my head

Warnings: Angst, reader is in a coma, James cheats on reader, if you think I missed anything let me know otherwise enjoy!

Part 1

James watched you bash your face into the asphalt, the blood pooled around you but you wouldn’t stop, even as he clawed at you, screaming and begging for you to stop, and he knew he was the reason for it.

Eventually you stopped and James laid over you, eyes filled with tears that streamed down his cheeks and soaked into your shirt. He wrapped himself around you, feeling as your warmth slipped from you in the cold of the night.

Unable to take it anymore he got you into his truck, the passenger seat where you always sat when he took you on late night drives. He went around to the drivers side and got in, taking your hand and turning the truck around to get to the closest hospital. Of course he lived outside of town and it was a long drive, he refused to look at you, not even a single glance. He wanted the last image of you in his mind to be your beauty, how happy…

It had been too long since he’d seen you happy, he could barely picture it now. The last time he remembered seeing you happy was a picture you’d taken alone. James was on tour, you were left home alone while he was picking up groupies here and there, and Kirk showed him a picture you’d sent him where you went for a hike. He saw that smile and a little part of him -he wanted to say it lit up but it didn’t, it made him furious seeing you happy. James saw that picture of you and wanted to tell you to leave. He loved you so deeply and knew he wasn’t good enough, he hoped seeing how happy you were without him would make you leave. He wanted you gone.

He squeezed your hand tighter as he drove, sniffling softly while babbling apology after apology, telling you how much he loved, how bad he fucked up. He kept driving, knowing this was goodbye. He wouldn’t look at you, he wanted his last sight of you to be alive. He wasn’t driving to save you, he was getting a declaration. Your hand was cold but you didn’t tremble or huddle up to him like you always did, even when he tried to make you hate him, you’d crawl in bed next to him, find him in his little ‘study’, craving his touch, attention, whatever you could get. Even though he was just yelling at you, it was attention.

He carried you in, he wasn’t moving with determination or speed, you’d be dead either way and he was broken and tired. You’d be dead if he ran and you’d be dead if he stood still. Yet your head rested on his chest, over his heart, listening to it beat. He was alive after everything.

James’s mind was a mess when he reached the doors to the trauma centre, he calmly asked someone for help and you were rushed away. It was his first glance at what you had left of a face; skin would be left torn on the road back home, your blood drying sticky around it. Your hair was matted and muddy, everything was covered in blood, including him, and he just stood there until someone got him onto a bed where they gave him a quick check-up and a change of clothes.

“She’s dead.” He muttered, the resident looking over him gave a wry look.

“Who’s dead?” She asked, looking over his chart.

“My girlfriend.” He said, looking up at the woman. “She’s dead, right?”

She stared at him for a while, trying to come up with anything to say. “We, uh, we can’t share patients' medical information with anyone who isn’t a legal family member.” She said, setting his chart down on the table beside the bed.

“I am her family, we live together, we tour together… her family’s not here, she’s coming home with me, she’s dead, right?” He said. He hadn’t meant to say you were coming home with him, because you weren’t, you were dead and you’d be sitting in the basement until your parents came and he’d have to tell them what happened and why you did it.

The woman looked behind her to another room, James didn’t know what it was and there was only a small window that didn’t show much of who or what was inside. The woman slipped away for a second and peeked her head into the room. The noise was muddled with beeping and people walking around. Everything moved slowly and nothing felt real anymore. James was floating in his mind, watching everything happen behind a screen. He laid his head back on the pillow and could almost feel you under him, thighs holding his head and hands holding his face while you smiled down at him.

The resident came back and lowered her voice to speak. “She’s critical…” She kept speaking but James tuned it out. Critical wasn’t good, but it meant not dead. You weren’t dead.

He couldn’t stop the tears from flowing again, his breathing got heavy and he clutched the thin sheets tight in his fists. “She’s alive…” He muttered, repeating it over and over. The resident got a mask and held it over his mouth, he wasn’t injured but he needed a break, a reprise from this hell of being awake while you were dying in the next room over, where he could do nothing. The door to the room across the hall opened and a gurney was wheeled out right as James’s eyes closed.

“Jamie~” A voice purred. It was echoey and strange, calling to him from afar. “Jamie.” It repeated, clearer now. Your relationship passed his mind like flashcards, your smile, how shy you used to be and how warm you were, the meals you used to make together, how perfect you looked when you were sleeping in his arms. They quickly got darker, the night drives stopped, the face you made when he first started yelling at you -brows knit together and lips parted slightly, tears welling in your eyes as you fidgeted nervously with your hands- and the face you made when you got used to it -empty and expectant, you looked up at him because he got mad when you lowered your head, your shoulders slumped.

"Jamie." The voice came a last time. James finally opened his eyes and found himself in a white nothing, emptiness everywhere. His head was in your lap where it belonged, your fingers running through his hair while you smiled down at him. Even now he was crying, and he couldn't make it stop, he just stared at you, wetness rolling down his cheeks in cascades. "You're not supposed to be here."

James was quiet a moment. You were fine, and here, with him. "Where are we?" He asked, it wasn't what he meant to say, he meant to ask if you were ok, say he loved you, anything.

You looked around at the nothingness and shrugged. "Somewhere." James nodded but stayed in your lap, still crying but it didn't come through in his words, his voice and breathing were fine, he just kept crying. "You're not supposed to be here." You repeated, looking back down at James and wiping away his tears.

James reached up and held your hand to his face, feeling the warmth of your palm on his cheek for a moment. "Are you supposed to be here?" He asked hesitantly, waiting for your nod. He remembered what it looked like when you bashed your face into the concrete, how he reached to stop you to no avail. "You're not supposed to be here." He said, voice wavering slightly and he shook his head. "You-you're supposed to come home with me, alright? I'll take you home." He began to sit up but you pushed him back down, not with much force but it really didn't take much right now.

"I don't think I get to go home, James." Your own voice started to break now, lip quivering slightly. James shook his head again and sat up, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you tight to him, holding your head to his chest.

"No, yes! Yes, you do. You will come home and be my baby, you're my baby!" He cried, using everything he could to hold onto you, every ounce of will and strength in his being. He buried his face in the crook of your neck, slowly losing himself in you. "I love you! You need to know that, I-I have to show you and you have to give me the chance!"

"James." Another voice called. There was a pressure on his shoulder, someone was shaking him. He opened his eyes and it was all gone, every bit of it ruined. You weren't in his arms anymore, instead it was a pillow he held tight, a tear rolling down his cheek and soaking into it again. "James, you're doing it again."

"Sleeping?" He grumbled, shooting a look over his shoulder.

It was a woman sitting on the other side of the bed. Your bed where you'd spent so many nights alone and crying for him while he was out. Out with her. "You scream in your sleep, if I'd known that I never would've agreed to live here." He never told her about you, about what happened and that you were in a coma.

James stared at her a moment longer before getting out of bed, tossing the pillow aside, and went to the closet where your clothes still were. "Do I get to hang my clothes up soon?" She asked, stretching in bed.

"No." He said. "Don't touch anything."

The woman watched him now as he changed, wondering why he'd changed so much. He used to be so fun, going on all night and buying her flowers, chocolates, whatever she wanted, now she was a cage in what was supposed to be her own house. "Why would you move me in here?"

James turned around, having gotten his clothes on now. He looked her up and down, seeing she was still naked from the night before. "You wanted to be my girlfriend, you wanted to live here, this is what it's like." He grumbled as he made his way to the door.

"I'm sure your ex would disagree, she got to hang up her stuff, at least." James stopped for a moment, his hand on the doorknob.

"I'll ask her for you." He bit, swinging the door open and slamming it shut behind him. She had no idea what had happened to you, how your face looked, how James cried, how he visited you every day to make sure you were alright. Today was the day, he would come see you, he would talk to you, and he would beg and beg to anyone and everyone that was willing to listen you'd wake up, and if you didn't -he refused to say when- you would be taken off life support and he'd lose you forever.

[ikbitchssss]

I Just Want Your Heart (Daryl x Half-Walker!Reader)

Warnings/Tags: Major Character Death, Angst, Cussing, Blood, Violence, and Normal TWD stuff. If anymore, please tell me and I'll add it!

Season: In the 30 days between season 3 and 4.

Words: 3K

Plot: Daryl finds a walker, but she can talk. She’s always chewing on gum, and her body is a bit rotten. It’s like she was half dead. He goes ok to help her and take care of her, not knowing why. Until one day, he does something he might regret.

A/N: Hope y'all enjoy;3

(OG BLOG: @idkbishsss)

Daryl Dixon was a man who did not fall in love with anyone. He was a rough around the edges, redneck, quiet, distant, guy. He did not fall in love. He loved only one person, his brother. Lost together somewhere in an apocalypse world and treated him like shit most of the time sure, but he did love him. As much as he wouldn’t admit it because Merle would just scoff and roll his eyes.

Daryl Dixon was not a man of groups. He was a part of one, only because he had to. Merle said it was because they needed him, but Daryl had a feeling that it was because Merle needed them. Daryl didn’t do groups, but he understands the importance of them. As long as they left him only he was okay.

Daryl Dixon was not a family man. He never wanted a family. His only brother was now dead. He didn’t need a family. Sure, he had a small care for the kids in the group, and didn’t want them to die. He would protect them, but it wasn’t his family.

Daryl Dixon was a lair. He was a family man, these people at the prison were his family. It was his group. He lied about it himself and others about those things for sure, but he never lied about not falling in love. Sure he’d love, in like, a family way. He’d never fall in love though, he’d never allow himself to.

.

Rick had ordered Daryl to go out and get more fuel for the cars. They were low and needed more for runs. 

Daryl got in a trunk and rode up to a few big ass rich people houses he’d seen a few weeks ago. They had a lot of cars and trucks in the neighborhood, meaning a lotta fuel if no one raided it already. In fact, a few houses were having parties, so there were more than usual for bug neighborhoods.

He pulled up to the first house and went to go get the fuel out of the cars and trucks. Using the classic suck on a hose until you feel like passing out method, he got nothing. Hence the sucking too long. He decided he’d check the houses later if he had time and moved on to the next set of cars and trucks. These ones look promising, and were very promising. Fuel came pouring out like the rain, he filled two gallons worth of gas from four cars and one truck. 

He put those gallons back in the back seat, and went to the truck bed to grab more fuel cans. However, something stopped him, a loud screaming noise. He grabbed his crossbow and looked around for the source. He heard giggling and saw the house it was coming from.

He slowly approached the home with extreme caution. He turned around the halls that lead him to a bedroom. He could hear the smacking of gum coming from the room. A girl was sitting there on the bed. A girl was graying skin, dead walker eyes, and a few broken limbs. You.

You casually popped the bones back into place. You looked over to him and smiled, he drew his crossbow up and pointed it to you.

“Woah! I’m not gonna bite you, I am not like the other ones.” You made a joke out of it while putting your hands up. He was confused, what the hell is happening? Why is a Walker, a dead woman, talking? And why isn’t he shooting it’s head off?

You got up and walked over to him, still with your hands up. Your smile faded and you looked a little nervous. “Look I was freaked out and confused when I woke up and was… somewhat alive. But I don’t hurt people, and it still hurts when you hurt me… so please just let me go…” You begged for your life as if you were human. Daryl didn’t understand, you aren’t human, you barely look human. Well, you didn’t look like a walker, you still had flesh, but still, you looked dead. It freaked him out.

You knew he was freaked out, it was all over his face after you said those words. But honestly? Daryl was more than just freaked out, a small part of him was intrigued. Which wasn’t like him. He wasn’t an intrigued guy, but he wanted to know you, know what happened to you.

“Why’d ya scream?” He asked gruffly. You didn’t expect his voice to be that deep, he must smoke something. 

You wave it off and shrug. “Walker grabbed my leg, forgot they don’t bite me anymore.” He was even more intrigued by this, you were immune? Or just half turned. He knew the group would shoot you as soon as you got close because of what you looked like. He’s had personal experience in that at the fram, but he wanted to know you. 

“Look… I’ll show you the best water and food and well anything you need! In this area and neighborhood… just let me live… please.” As you begged him again he put his crossbow down. He told himself not to, to put it back up, kill you, threaten you. But he didn’t. He just nodded and let you lead the way to show him things.

.

You were a talker, and walkers didn’t even look at you when you were being so loud. Daryl found it strangely interesting. He’d never been interested in anyone really, let alone a woman. Yet, there was something about you that made him wonder and think more than he ever let himself before. 

You were showing him a map of the area and places that hadn’t been raided already. “Now there’s a horde here, but when you go just tell me about a week before and I can steer them clear from your path!”

He looked up at you, an expression on his face that could only be described as a little confused. “Now why would ya’ help us..?” He asked, quietly, you guessed he wasn’t much of a talker. 

“Meh! If we are neighbors I have to help you right?” You said it like it was obvious. Like people just help one another in these conditions. “It’s what good neighbors do!” You exclaimed, Daryl just nodded. It wasn’t the old world normal people knew any more, but you act like it. Then again, Daryl didn’t know much of normal, so who was he to judge? Besides, the help would be nice.

You altered your smile, your big grin going away into a slight smile. For a dead girl, you seemed happier than most people. Maybe that was the secret, being dead. But Daryl had people, he wasn’t going to leave them. They needed him just as much as he needed them.

After it was all said and done Daryl went back to getting fuel. You stayed around just kind of watching him. It made him nervous, and he felt a strange new feeling he hadn’t felt before. He wished he could place it, but after years of controlling his emotions, they were all over the place. He didn’t know how to pen point the feeling he felt.

After he was all done with one car, he’d move onto the next one. You’d follow him, just standing around, watching. It almost creeped him out at some points, almost. He wasn’t used to people watching him so closely. Maybe this is how people felt about him. But earlier you were so talkative, and now you just watched, quietly.

He put the last two gallons of fuel in the truck and turned around after closing the door. He jumped a little when he saw you behind him. It wasn’t noticeable to you, just him. You just smiled and put a new piece of gum in your mouth.

“I have to… leave.” He mumbled walking over to the truck door. He glanced back at you, seeing that you were no longer smiling. You stood back, looking back at your house.

“I’ll be back…” He said. He thought he was stupid for saying it, but when he looked up and saw your smile, those thoughts faded into nothing. He pulled out of there immediately, why does he feel this way? Questions plagued his mind as he drove back to the prison.

.

He pulled back into the prison and didn’t say a word to anyone, not even to Rick, who’d asked him many questions about the area. He just helped unload his truck and stayed quiet with the small nod a few times. As the sun started to go down over the hills and people started to go inside, Daryl soon followed them. He then walked back into his cell and pulled the thin sheet as a door over the opening.

Daryl put his crossbow down with his stuff. He took his shoes off and threw them next to his boots. Beth found him “nice” sneakers to wear. He only wore them because it made her happy. He took off his vets and threw it on the top bunk

He laid down on the bottom bunk. He was on his back trying to sleep, but he just kept thinking about you. He knew it was a bad idea to think about you this much, but he couldn’t control himself anymore like he used to. You were talkative and almost happy, even though you were dead. 

He has so many questions. Why’d you look freshly dead? Why’d you chew gum? If you bite him, will he turn? Can he even get these answered? Probably not, he’d probably not even go back. A broken promise he gave you based on impulse.

He wasn’t like this. He didn’t let himself be like this, he wasn’t weak. Yet, he was thinking about you. He just wanted to see you, but he won’t let himself. He’s not going to let himself. But then again, what if you didn’t like him?

He switched onto his side and buried the side of his head into his pillow. He groaned, he wasn’t going to sleep with his thoughts racing like this. Why was he so obsessed with you? You weren’t anything other than another traveler he met, a very interesting undead traveler he met. He needed to let it go. 

If he just doesn’t go near the houses, he’d be fine!

.

Unfortunately, Rick wanted to go to the houses to raid them. They needed more food and supplies. He was planning everything out for a few days. He told Daryl to lead the car and truck on his motorcycle. 

He led them there but was far ahead. You were out killing walkers and humming. You turned and saw Daryl, you dropped your knife and ran up to his bike. “Hey! You’re back!” You said joyfully. Daryl looked worried.

“My group, they’re gonna be here soon. Ya gotta hide…” he said. You looked confused, as if you didn’t understand that his group could hurt you. He turned over to the car and truck coming in and shoved you in the pile. He killed a walker and put it on top of you. 

You started to breathe heavily. You started to get scared. It reminded you of your death, but Daryl put you here. And you trusted him. He’s the only thing or person that hasn’t tried to kill you.

Daryl said he’d raid your home, as he did half of it already. The rest of the group went into other houses. He waited till they were out of sight and he picked you up from the ground and walked into the house.

“I said hide, girl.” He shoved you on the couch. And sighed. He picked up a few things and shoved them into his bag. One of two lighters, a water bottle, a few canned foods, and a knife. He then sat down next to you. “Won’t take it all from here...” he mumbles looking anywhere but at you.

You just grabbed some gum and chewed on it. Not paying much mind to him. 

“So. Your group. How come I can’t meet them?” You asked like it was urgent, like somehow you needed to meet them right now. 

He mumbled a little to himself before answering, “I don’t know how they’ll react to ya,” he paused and looked at your eyes, yellow and bloodshot, “hell I still don’t really know what to think…” He said with a grunt. You giggled, giggled at him.

He looked confused by it. “I’m a walker, who would know what to think?” You explained. He smiled a little and nodded his head. He guessed he understood that, who would react well? 

You got up and walked up stairs, you came back down with a bag. “Here. My old bag of supplies before I turned, enjoy your raid of my neighborhood stranger.” She smiled and he noticed that you weren’t chewing gum anymore, why?

He looked down and opened the bag, it was full of food and maps. It had a few knives too. He looked up thank you but you were gone, just like that. He missed his chance to talk to you. He just sat there, what was he meant to do? Go look for you? He had a job, raid this place.

He got up and looked through the house a little more, he found some things others could use. He guessed you didn’t use soap or cleaning things, you were dead. He had your bag and another full one of needs and others of wants. Beth and Carl requested things since they are still too young for runs.

He walked back outside and put the stuff in the truck. Rick and Michonne got done with theirs and walked over, same with Maggie and Glenn. A few new guys as well, but Daryl didn’t care to know their names. He should really learn your name.

Also, you weren’t as talkative as last time… why?

.

The next time Daryl went on a hunt he stopped by that neighborhood, you were nowhere to be found. You just disappeared into thin air. At a blink of an eye you were gone when he saw you last and you never showed up again. What happened? Did you not like him? Lots of why’s with you.

He looked up and down the neighborhood, but it was no use. He didn’t want to give up. You were so; no. He needed to stop, he couldn’t let himself get this close to you. It almost felt like… love.

What if you were dead? 

That thought hit him when he sat on his bike. Dead. No? You? But it was completely reasonable. You were half walker, you almost blended right in. You could’ve easily been killed by someone. What if it was someone in his group? What if his family killed you? 

No. They aren’t his family and you are nothing to him. You talk together only a few times, yet it felt like he knew you longer. 

He got on his bike and headed back on the open road. He was going to the prison again, he got a few rabbits that would be fine for now. 

The breeze was cold, a nice contrast to the hot sun that beat his pale skin to a tan. He always loved taking these bike rides. They were peaceful, especially when he was stressing about stupid things. No more of that, but there was something he the road

He pressed the brakes, hard. You stood in the middle of the road, scared. He got off his bike and ran to you. The whole, not stressing about things always lasts him two seconds.!“Are you okay?” He said, you hugged him.

“Hey stranger..” You just sobbed into his neck. His beautiful, fleshy, biteable neck. You pushed him away. He was confused, why? Did you really not like him? Is what he feared right?

“I’m going to bite you… I want to bite you… I keep wanting to bite people… I’m freaking out! Gum doesn’t help anymore!”

Daryl grabbed your hand. “Then let’s find some asshole to cure that hunger.” You looked at him like he was crazy. Hell, he knew the plan was crazy, but losing you was crazier. He couldn’t lose you, he loved you. Goddamn it, he fell fast and hard, but he loved you. He really did.

You pulled your hand away from his. He wanted to run and hug you, make you stop running from this, he can handle a bite. “It doesn't work like that! I just got hungrier..” You mumble, you tried it already. It didn’t work. He grabbed your hand.

“I’ll find a way. I need you…” he mumbled that last part but it made your heart break. It happened in three swift moves. He kissed you, you bite his lip, you pull back. It was all so fast that you nor Daryl had time to realize what happened. What you both did. A kiss and a bite.

“Stranger-“ 

“Daryl.”

“Daryl… I, you’ll turn…” You mumble, you’d be crying if your tear ducts worked. Goddamn it, he had a family, you were going to kill him. He nodded and laid his head on yours. “And I’ll be yours…” he mumbles. He knows he’ll miss his family, it’s why he sheds a tear, but he wants to be with you. Maybe you’ll both be half dead. Maybe you’ll find a way to live. Maybe his family will accept you guys.

Daryl Dixon was a man of love. Fast, messy, sweet, heartbreaking love. He’d give the world, he’d give himself, for the one he loved. Over and over and over again. He was a lover, because he allowed himself to fall in love. He was all the things he thought he wasn’t, because he was a liar. But he would no longer be a liar, because he knew he was these things. He was just Daryl Dixon. A very half-dead and in love Daryl Dixon.

[mcrdvcks]

— logan howlett masterlist

☾: series

i love you, in every time* - Logan Howlett x fem!reader

Logan has spent lifetimes haunted by a curse only he understands—meeting the same woman, you, in every era, only to lose you over and over again. Each time, you’re reborn without memories of your past lives, while Logan, who remembers everything, tries in vain to protect you from the tragedies that seem destined to follow.

Project Reverie - 3 Part Series:

Sweet Dreams* - Logan Howlett x Original Female Character (platonic relationship)

Alexandria Sokolova spent 15 years with HYDRA, ever since her parents and brother were killed in front of her when she was 3. She was raised to be a soldier; an assassin. But now, faced with coming to Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters, she has to come to terms that there are people around her who don't want to hurt her, people who actually care about her. But recognizing that is harder than it seems, especially with a teacher like Logan Howlett, who seems to care more about her than he lets on. Just because she's currently safe from HYDRA's grasp now, doesn't mean she's safe forever.

☾: oneshots

Oblivious, Baby, Oblivious - People would tell you that geniuses don't know everything, but you tell them that defeats the purpose of the word. Until one day you're proven wrong.

Sweet Nothing* - Mornings were Logan's favorite part of the day.

Until I Found You - Living in a small town had it's pluses and minuses. But when an older man and his daughter move in, things start to change, perhaps for the better.

Point of View* - You weren't skinny which led to a large amount of insecurities. But Logan doesn't understand them.

Dumb & Poetic - You like Logan, but he likes Jean. Right?

I Wanna Be Yours - You're a hacker for The Organization, a secret group that is currently working on dismantling a mutant trafficking ring. You've been working with Logan for months but neither of you have met each other in person and he doesn't even know your real name.

Call It What You Want - A single sneeze turns into something more, at least to your husband Logan.

love me do* - Logan likes to mark you.

things i wish you said - You and Logan get into a fight and Laura tries to get the two of you to see the errors in your ways.

what are hands for? - After an offhand comment from your father shakes your confidence, you find yourself spiraling into self-doubt.

fantasize - You have a crush on Logan, but you're not sure he likes you back. Why would he? You're not his type. At least that's what you thought.

please me* - After dating for a while, you want nothing more than for Logan to really please you. Or, you beg Logan to finally fuck you.

dress* - You and Logan take a tropical vacation for the new year.

7 minutes - You own a small bakery in Westchester. One day, Logan comes in for an order for the X-Mansion. After that he becomes a regular—something he persistently denies.

☾: connected oneshots

Shut Up - You and Logan are sent on a mission: go to the gala and find out information about a mutant trafficking ring. Nasty* - You and Logan deal with the aftermath of your mission.

Deck The Halls - You and Logan decorate for Christmas with your kids. i just need this love spiral - Logan just wants one night alone with you.

☾: drabbles

possessive!reader x Logan (X-Men)

possessive!reader pt. 2 x Logan (X-Men)

Old Man Logan (D&P) x reader

drunk!fem!reader x Logan (X-Men)

Patch/Logan (D&P) x reader

[takuma-talkz]

Romantic Homicide Part 2 of Boyfriend’s Wrath

Summary: Jimmy messed up big time. Now, he will reap what he has sewn.

warnings: Murder and Death

banners by @cafekitsune and one other blog. They said no need to credit them but I did repost their banners so please show love to the creators!

[Name], Daisuke’s beautiful girlfriend who is always down for his shenanigans no matter how much trouble they got into.

[Name], Daisuke’s amazing girlfriend who always talks back to Swansea when he starts yelling at Daisuke.

[Name] who was callously assaulted by Jimmy. A “self-proclaimed” captain who wrestled a helpless, young woman to the ground and forced himself on her.

Daisuke roamed the halls, a metal pipe lightly smacked against his palm. With every step, he cornered the fucking scumbag.

There he was, snooping by your room.

“Daisuke.” Jimmy called out to him. Daisuke concealed his tightening grip on the pipe.

“Hey, Jimbo! What’s up?” He needed to play dumb for now, and once that bastard had his back turned…

He wouldn’t be to survive what Daisuke had planned for him.

“Where’s that dirty prize of yours? She has yet to give Curly his meds.” He muttered ‘useless bitch’ under his breath.

‘Breathe, Daisuke.’ He heard his father’s voice in his voice.

“She might be in the Medbay now, let’s go check.” Daisuke gestured towards the Medbay.

Jimmy hummed in response and started walking ahead of Daisuke. Without glancing back, he asked.

“What’s with the pipe?”

“For Swansea, he needs to replace a busted one.”

“Hm.”

Jimmy keeps walking, Daisuke talked aimlessly only for appearances.

Eventually both men made it to the med bay. Daisuke stood back, locking the door while Jimmy was preoccupied.

“Curly, was she here?” Sneering as Curly flailed around, groaning in pain.

“Dumb bitch, who can’t even fucking lis—“

CRACK—!

Jimmy collapsed to his knees, clutching at his bleeding head.

“You little shi—“

CRACK—!

Daisuke swung the pipe at Jimmy’s ribs. Jimmy screamed in pain. He curls on his side.

Jimmy stares up at Daisuke, his eyes were cold, conveying no ounce of remorse.

“Stop, don’t.” Jimmy puts his hand up.

“Did you stop when she begged?”

CRACK—!

“Did you stop when she fought back?”

CRACK—!

CRACK—!

CRACK—!

CRACK—!

Curly could when watch in horror as the sunshine intern blindly swung down the bloody pipe onto the co-captain.

Curly felt the pure, unbridled rage in every blow. Almost like Daisuke was inflicting the rage to him.

Soon, Jimmy stopped fighting back, his blood sprayed onto the floor, the walls, counter doors and Daisuke’s shirt.

Tense, visible veins show in Daisuke’s arm as he points at Curly.

“You let this happen. You’re just as guilty as him.”

A/N: the awaited part 2 sorry if it’s shit :(

Taglist: @marasaurusrex, @letsgofoletsgo, and @dyn0nazzz

[the-most-humble-blog]

Female Hypergamy 101: Why Women Go for the “Misogynists” They Claim to Despise

It’s not misogyny if she’s into it.

Modern feminism has a huge problem—and it’s not misogynists.

It’s the women who secretly (or blatantly) want them.

For all the outrage, pearl-clutching, and Twitter thread dissertations about men like Andrew Tate being “dangerous,” women keep proving, time and time again, that they want exactly this type of man.

And not just want. Chase. Obsess over. Fight for.

Because here’s the truth they don’t want to admit:

👉 Hypergamy runs the show.

👉 Women date up, not down.

👉 And they don’t give a fuck if that "up" comes wrapped in a leather jacket of blatant, unapologetic misogyny.

📌 The Hypergamy Effect: Women Date Up, Not Down

First, let’s define hypergamy for the chronically uneducated.

💡 Hypergamy is the biological and social tendency of women to seek men who outrank them in status, power, and resources.

It’s not a choice. It’s not a conspiracy. It’s evolution.

📊 David Buss, a leading evolutionary psychologist, found in his 2019 study that across all cultures, women overwhelmingly prefer men with: ✔ More money ✔ More social dominance ✔ More ambition ✔ More physical presence

Not "equal." More.

Sound familiar?

Why do you think women flood Tate’s DMs despite his reputation?

Why do you think feminists cry about him online while secretly watching his videos in the dark like it’s porn?

It’s because hypergamy doesn’t give a fuck about ideology.

It only cares about status.

📌 The Data: Women Are Attracted to “High-Status” Men—Even If They Hate Them

If hypergamy wasn’t real, we wouldn’t have study after study proving it.

📊 A 2012 study by Fieder & Huber analyzed the dating preferences of thousands of women and found that:

✔ Women consistently rated men with high status, wealth, and dominance as more attractive—even if their personalities were “problematic.” ✔ They found high-status "assholes" more desirable than low-status "nice guys." ✔ Women repeatedly rejected men who had lower incomes or weaker social positions.

Translation? They can call it misogyny all they want. Their biology doesn’t care.

Even better? They are sexually aroused by it.

🧠 A 2008 study by Rupp & Wallen found that when exposed to dominant, "socially aggressive" men, women experienced higher physiological arousal than when exposed to "kind, nurturing" men.

You read that right.

They get turned on by the men they claim to despise.

📌 Tate’s DMs: The Leaked Receipts of Female Hypergamy

Still skeptical? Let’s talk about the actual receipts.

📂 Leaked screenshots from Tate’s personal messages—while he was actively being accused of misogyny and human trafficking—showed women flooding his inbox begging for attention.

Not just fans. Not just “lost, brainwashed” women.

We’re talking: ✔ Self-proclaimed feminists asking for his approval. ✔ "Anti-Tate" women secretly flirting with him. ✔ Women offering themselves up, unprompted, despite “hating” him.

So tell me again how “no woman wants a misogynist?”

Because Tate’s inbox tells a different story.

📌 Why Women Love What They “Hate”

💡 Women don’t actually want equality in dating.

They want status, power, and the thrill of dominance.

✔ They call Tate misogynistic, yet can’t stop talking about him. ✔ They say they want a “nice, emotionally available man” while chasing the very men they complain about. ✔ They "despise" male arrogance while drooling over men who treat them like an afterthought.

Hypergamy is undefeated.

And every outraged feminist tweet about Tate? Every think-piece about why he’s "problematic?"

It’s just free advertising for the exact type of man they can’t resist.

📌 Final Thought: The Lie of "Nice Guys Finish First"

Feminists say they want a world where men are gentle, kind, and respectful.

Yet they date the opposite.

They hate the men they want.

They date the men they claim to hate.

And when the receipts come out? They scramble for excuses.

Because no woman wants to admit that biology will always outrank ideology.

💀 REBLOG if the truth burns. 🔥 LIKE if you see hypergamy play out in real life. 💬 COMMENT if you’ve watched women contradict themselves like Olympic-level gymnasts. 🚀 FOLLOW for brutal, fact-driven breakdowns that hurt the weak.

[huffelpuff210]

My Girl Part 2

Mafia Bucky X Reader My Girl Part 2

Summary: you never realized who Bucky was until a co worker points it out

You were currently in the bathroom of your apartment covering up the bruise on your neck, you were good at covering up bruises from your past, 

when your parents would beat the shit out of you, you had no choice but cover up the bruising, 

You sighed looking at the cover up if you didn’t know there was a bruise there you wouldn’t even know something happened. Last night Bucky brought you to his home where you got check out by one of his doctors he claimed turns out one of his doctors on his pay roll was your boss, 

after telling you it was just bruising, and to ice it he took you home, the look on his face told you he didn’t like where you lived it was a bad part of town, you knew that, everyone knew that, But you just brushed it off thanking him and getting out of the car, 

Bucky was currently sitting behind his desk looking at the file on you Nat dug up, many trips to the hospital as a kid, broken ribs, jaw, collapsed lung, damaged vocal cord, 

it didn’t take a doctor to know what the hell was going on there and just the mere thought of someone hurting you made him want to kill, hell it took all of his strength to not kill the bastards who decided to jump you, but what he didn’t expect was how you took out most of the men, that third man that hurt you he wanted to kill but he didn’t want to freak you out, 

Still it did surprise him, but after you were sixteen you just disappeared, your parents never filed a missing persons report your teachers at the school did, Bucky takes a sip of his whiskey, 

He turns the page, got your GED when you were finally an adult, went to community collage got your degree, and you have been working at the hospital ever since, 

He closes the file crossing his leg over the other, but begs the question where were you for three years before you resurfaced? 

He also didn’t like the part of town where you lived, it was no secret that part of town is dangerous for someone like you, you were small compared to him but you were a woman, probably around 5’4 by his guess. You were a small thing, but he loved it. 

He loved everything about you from your long dark brown hair to your green eyes, you were perfect for him, 

He looked at his watch it was around noon around your break, it was a surprise to him that Bruce was your boss so he had him give him your schedule, Bucky stood up walking out of his office, 

You were running around work like a crazy person you were about to take your lunch when another emergency rolled it, not like you had lunch anyway, 

“Y/N please report to the main lobby.” You hear over the speaker 

You sigh in frustration, just as you were about to the lobby one of your co workers grab your arm, 

“Do you have any idea who that is?” She asked nodding towards Bucky, 

“He helped me out the other night.” You says 

“That is Bucky Barnes he is the Mafia king of New York.” She says in a worried tone

“Mafia?” You asked 

“Yes, He is dangerous just be careful.” She says 

You nod

He couldn’t be any worse than your family, your father got so mad at you one time he beat the shit out of you with a bamboo stick, hurt like hell. 

You walk towards him, 

“Bucky what are you doing here?” You asked tilting your head

“Well it is lunch time, I was wondering if you would like to go out for lunch?’ He asked with a wicked smile, that smile seemed to probably get him anything if he wanted 

“And don’t worry about money or your boss, I’ll take care of it.” He says holding out his hand, you had a feeling if you said no he wouldn’t accept that answer so you take his hand you can’t remember the last time you went out to eat so you might as well accept his invitation 

“Besides I want to get to know the girl that took out two full grown men.” He says with a chuckle 

You chuckle as well, 

“It’s a dangerous city, a girl needs to know how to protect herself.” You say He smiles as he nods 

“Well I would like to hear it anyway.” He says 

for the first time in a while you smiled a real smile not one of the fake one’s you so skillfully mastered.

You just had one question, who was Bucky Barnes really?

[thewritingrowlet]

The Road Back to You, ft. tripleS Lee Jiwoo

tags: creampie, (light) daddy kink, rekindled love

length: almost 6k words

author's note: well, here it is: one of the fics that was stuck in the WIP dungeon—have at it, you.

-

“The Cavendish Group says—oh my God, who is it?”

You look at your buzzing phone; Jiwoo’s mother is calling you. You take a few deep breaths to clear your mind before picking up the call.

“Good afternoon, this is Shin Hyunwoo,” you greet her.

“Hi, son—have you been well?”

“Yes, I have, madam. Is there anything I can help you with?”

The woman on the other side pauses for what feels like an eternity.

“It’s about Jiwoo,” she pauses again, “she’s… been quite ill for the past two weeks, and I thought maybe you should pay her a visit.”

Your heart races: you haven’t talked to Jiwoo for almost a year now ever since she walked out your door that one night, and the prospect of seeing the cause of your heartbreak is rather… unsettling.

“I know you’re busy, but if you have time, please consider visiting her.” You can hear the sincerity in her voice, and it’s getting difficult to say no. Your gaze is locked on the large monitor in front of you as you thoughtfully consider her mother’s words. Eventually, with a heavy sigh, you agree to see Jiwoo at her place.

“I’ll tell her you’ll be coming after you get off work.” You can hear the joy in her voice, and it’s getting difficult to calm your racing heart. Your gaze shifts to the window next to you, and reflected on its surface is your smiling face. Eventually, with a chuckle, you admit to yourself that you are indeed excited to see Jiwoo at her place.

-

You take exactly 6 deep breaths before knocking on Jiwoo’s apartment door. Initially, no answer is heard from the other side, but as you prepare to knock again, the door suddenly shifts.

“O-oppa, you’re… actually here…”

You offer her a tentative smile, unable to tell whether she’s excited to see you or not.

“Yes, I am—erm, your mother asked if I could visit you, so…” You trail off, hoping that Jiwoo will catch on. A smile of similar nature stretches over her face. “Please get inside, oppa.”

Jiwoo invites you to sit on the sofa with her, and after you’re seated, she asks for permission to rest her head on your shoulder for “old times sake.” With a smile on her face, you grant her that permission. “Thank you,” she mutters softly as she leans against you. Your eyebrows furrow when you feel her hot temple on your skin. “You’re that sick, baby?” Jiwoo pretends to have missed the endearment, biting her lower lip to stop herself from blushing. “Yes, oppa; it’s been pretty bad.”

You offer Jiwoo to rest her head on your thighs, and without saying a word, she takes you up on it. Not only that, but she also guides your hand towards her forehead. “Hm, hot,” you blurt. She nods slightly. “My head hurts too,” she complains, sighing deeply at the end. You bite your tongue slightly as you think whether you want to ask her this question in your head. “Ah, screw it.” The suddenness confuses Jiwoo. “Screw what, oppa?”

“Can I take you to the bedroom, baby?”

Jiwoo’s blinks rapidly; she hasn’t heard you say such a sentence in a long while, and now, merely minutes after your return, she hears it again, thus causing her cheeks to turn pink.

“Y-yes, oppa; p-please take me to the bedroom.”

Jiwoo nuzzles her face in the crook of your neck as you’re lifting her bridal-style to her room. “Mm, you still smell the same,” she comments. You chuckle a little. “I just keep buying the same perfume and cologne,” you say. She nods against your skin. “Don’t ever change them, please; I love the smell of you, oppa.” Your eyebrows rise; does Jiwoo realize she’s saying all this like she was still your girlfriend?

“Ah, whatever—not the time to think about it.”

You carefully lower Jiwoo onto her bed, and that is when she tightens her arms around your neck. “Don’t leave me—please, not again,” she begs. You sigh deeply. “What do you mean not again, Jiwoo-yah?” She looks at you in the eyes. “You know what I mean, oppa, so please don’t leave me, not when I need you most.” You sigh again. “You were the one who broke us up, sweetheart; I was just respecting your decision.”

Tears prick at the corners of her eyes as she feels the weight of regret of the decision that led to her stepping out of your door and, in turn, your life. “I-I was… reckless, to say the least—I-I’ve now realized that I can’t leave without you.” You stay silent, indirectly asking her to keep talking. “I’m so, so sorry for leaving you, oppa,” her eyes are shiny with unshed tears, “I should’ve been more patient, more understanding…”

It warms your heart that Jiwoo understands the significance of her decision to leave the relationship and is welcoming about your return. Before guilt overwhelms her, you throw her a lifebuoy in the form of a soothing touch of hand to her forehead. “Sweetheart, I think we’ve both learned our lessons—for now, let’s just focus on recovering.” She smiles slightly. “Please join me in bed, oppa.”

You slide onto the bed as she asks, spooning her from behind just like how you used to. “This is… so nice,” she sighs, seemingly in relief, “thank you for making time for me, oppa; I know you’re busy and all that.” You give her a soft peck to the back of her head. “You have a special place in my heart and mind, Jiwoo-yah—not to mention that your mom was quite good at persuasion.” Jiwoo giggles. “A chip of the old block, or something like that.”

-

Time ticks by as you spend a few hours spooning the sick woman, and now that your eyes are open again, you see that it’s quite dark outside the window.

“Jiwoo-yah,” you whisper softly, “I think we should find something to eat.” Jiwoo stretches languidly as she gets herself together. “What time is it?” You look at your watch. “Almost 9 p.m.” She exhales deeply. “Can we have food sent here, because I don’t feel like going out.” You ask what she wants to have. “Anything that’s warm like you.” Your heart jumps. “Warm like me, you say?” She nods with a smile. “Warm like you, oppa—that’s what I need right now.”

You quickly order some noodle soup for both of you. “Food will be here in around 20 minutes, sweetie, so please hang on.” Jiwoo places a hand on yours. “Thank you, oppa; I appreciate it.” Once again, you give her a peck to the back of her head. “The pleasure is mine, sweetie—thank you for welcoming me again.” She sighs deeply. “Can’t we just pretend like we never broke up?” Well, isn’t that a good question. “I don’t know, honestly. I mean we haven’t seen each other for almost a year.”

You spend the time cuddling the sick woman whose (literal) hotness gradually becoming a source of concern. Thankfully, however, you’ve received notification that the food has been delivered to her door, which means that she’ll soon be able to take her medicines and get some rest.

Jiwoo reluctantly lets you go from the embrace. “Come back quickly, oppa,” she begs, her voice barely above a whisper. You give her a nod before stepping out of the bedroom to get the food from the door. You prepare the noodle soup for her, opening the bowl-like container and putting a spoon in it.

You help Jiwoo sit and lean against the headboard to support her weak frame. “May I feed you?” She nods with a faint pink on her cheeks. You take a spoonful of only the soup for her to taste. “Is that good?” Jiwoo sighs. “Not as good as expected, but that’s probably because I’m ill.”

You tend to Jiwoo with utmost patient, feeding her carefully until she finishes her food—or not; she’s weakly pushing your hand away from her lips. “That’s enough food,” she says. It’s unfortunate that she’s calling it quit now that there’s only two spoonsful of noodle soup left. “Baby, finish it, please?” She turns her face away from you, signaling that she really doesn’t want it. “Okay, if you say so.”

You place the unfinished food on the bedside table and ask where her medicines are. “I don’t want them too.” You sigh. “Baby, please, I just want to help.” Realizing that she can’t counter-argue, Jiwoo points at the drawer of the bedside table. When you open it, you notice that she has only taken her medications twice. “You’ve been skipping your meds, baby?” Jiwoo doesn’t answer your question, and that is when you sigh for the nth time.

You carefully turn her face towards you. “Baby, what’s happening right now—you’ve been ill for almost two weeks, but you haven’t been taking your medicines.” A tear flows out onto her cheek. “I-I’m sorry, b-but I just… I haven’t been feeling so well recently, if you know what I’m saying.” You hesitantly reach to pet her head. “Will you please cooperate for now? I’ll walk out of your life again when you’ve gotten better.”

Jiwoo breaks down into tears. “A-are you listening to yourself, oppa? Y-you’re saying that you’ll leave me again—are you fucking serious?” You wipe her tears with your thumb. “Baby, that’s not what I was trying to say; I’m just saying that I need you to work with me so that you can fully recover.” She closes her eyes tightly before looking back at you. “A-alright, I-I’ll… I’ll cooperate—j-just promise that you won’t leave me after this.” You offer her some assurance that you’ll stay, and that is when Jiwoo signals that she’s willing to take her medicines.

You prepare her capsules and pills along with a glass of water. “Ready when you are, baby.” Jiwoo takes the medicines from your hands and quickly swallows them. “Are you happy now?” You shake your head. “I won’t be happy until you’re healthy again.” She chuckles. “Hard to please, as always,” she snarks. A flicker of hurt crosses your features, but you quickly shake it off; right now, Jiwoo’s health is more important than your feelings.

Jiwoo moves to lie down, facing away from you dismissingly. “I’ll be at the living room if you need me,” you say. You give her some soft pats on the thigh as you make to leave to give her space to rest. You stop at the door, hoping that she’ll call you to cuddle her to sleep, but it doesn’t look like she wants it. “Yeah, okay,” you mutter as you close the door behind you.

You take a few deep breaths after sinking your butt into the fluffy cushions of the sofa. “Jiwoo has taken her meds and is sleeping right now,” you send a text to her mother, notifying her of Jiwoo’s current condition. “Thank you, son,” she replies soon after, and with it, you close your eyes to get a taste of peace.

Just minutes into your slumber, you feel someone wrapping their arms around you from behind while placing their chin on the top of your head. “Hm? Are you okay, sweetie?” “No,” she answers weakly. “Cuddle, please?” You collect yourself and stand up from the sofa. “I’m sorry, I just thought maybe you needed some space.” Jiwoo bites her lip in uncertainty. “I thought so too, but I think it’d be better if you’re with me.”

You follow her back to the bedroom, lying down square on your back while Jiwoo puts her head on your chest. “I’m sorry for being difficult, oppa; you’re here to help, but I’m not playing along.” You pet her head softly while offering some assurance, denying her attempt at guilt-tripping herself. “I wish… we hadn’t broken up…” she trails off as she drifts to sleep.

-

-

Subtle taps on your stomach stir you awake, and through your half-open eyes, you see Jiwoo sitting in bed next to you with a bottle (that’s more akin to a jerrycan) in her hands. “Can I help you?” She nods as she brings the bottle closer to you. “Can you, erm, get me some water, please?” You rub your eyes to wake up and take the bottle from her. “Sure, baby.”

You arrive at the kitchen where the dispenser is—wait, what is that hanging on the fridge?

You free the folded paper from the magnet and read the content, noticing the frequent strikethroughs right away.

“Dear ex-boyfriend,” the letter starts. "Thank you for making the time to come here and take care of me. It means a lot to me that you still care about me, and I don’t want to sound too hopeful, but I wish we can start over from square one.”

“So, can we start again?” Her voice makes you jump. “Answer me, oppa; can we start again? Will you give me another chance?" You turn to her with a sigh. “Let’s… focus on getting better for now.” Your indecisive answer disappoints Jiwoo, her eyes shining with unshed tears of unspoken dismay. “Sure, if you say so…” she trails off as she enters the bedroom again with slouched shoulders.

When you return to the bedroom, you find her curled up in bed, hugging her knees. “Jiwoo-yah, your water,” you say, hoping that she’ll get out of that position. “I’m not thirsty,” she replies, her voice barely audible. You set the filled bottle on the bedside table. “Well, it’s here if you need it.”

Your hand lingered on the bottle just a second too long, and Jiwoo is quick to find your wrist, gripping it weakly. “Stay,” she begs, “I don’t want to be alone again.” It’s disheartening to see the usually cheerful girl like this. “Alright, I’ll be in bed with you.”

Jiwoo tangles her long limbs around your body to keep you close. Not only that, but she also puts her head on your chest. “Your heart is racing,” she comments. You chuckle. “So is my mind.” She looks up at you with hopeful eyes. “I hope you’re thinking about getting back together.” You exhale deeply. “Well, I am, actually.” Jiwoo is getting excited. “So?” You take a deep breath before replying.

“Well, I think… I think I’m falling for you again.”

Jiwoo gathers her strength and moves to straddle your lap, a mysterious grin spreading across her features. “Why are you looking at me like that, baby?” She chuckles. “I want to make love to celebrate getting back together.” Blood rushes towards your cock at her words, but you don’t give into lust as you would’ve in the past. “Baby, you’re still sick—weren’t you complaining about a headache earlier?” She shrugs. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she deflects.

Jiwoo’s grin falters when she gets the signal from your stern expression. “Ah, well, I suppose I should get better first.” She then proceeds to let her torso rest on yours. “Thank you, oppa,” she mutters. You press your lips against her temple. “We will have time for celebrations, baby—not now, though.”

-

When you wake up the following morning, Jiwoo’s limbs are still entangled with yours as she sleeps oh-so-peacefully with her mouth slightly open. You carefully free yourself from the embrace, not wanting to disturb her slumber any further, but despite that, Jiwoo wakes up.

“Going somewhere?” she asks, her voice hoarse. “I have to go to work; we’re trying to strike a deal with Covington.” Jiwoo furrows her eyebrows. “Covington? The same Covington from years ago?” You nod. “The one and only.” Jiwoo offers you a supportive smile. “Go get them, then, tiger—make yourself rich.” You chuckle. “Thanks, baby.”

Jiwoo’s smile begins to disappear as she watches you put on your jacket and walk out of the bedroom. “I miss you already, oppa,” she mutters, too quiet to reach your ears. She sighs deeply when she hears your car driving away. “See you later, I guess.”

Jiwoo spends some more time rolling around in bed, and at one point, she wonders if she could pretend like her illness is coming back just so she would have a chance to call you back home. As she scrolls down on her contact list, however, she decides against it; Jiwoo remembers that you’re trying to strike a deal with Covington.

The unhappy-but-understanding Jiwoo eventually gathers her will to leave the bed, stretching around and yawning as she gets herself together. She walks over to the mirror to take a look at herself; her hair is a mess, her lips are anything but red in color, and her eyes are, well, red.

“Whatever”, she shrugs, “still good enough for him.”

Jiwoo proceeds to make her way to the bathroom for a quick soap-less shower before heading towards the living room to entertain herself while you’re away doing God-knows-what. She picks up her handheld console to play the new game she bought some days ago, but she puts it down after a few minutes of gameplay; the bright and flashing lights are proving to be difficult to bear in sickness.

Jiwoo lies flat on the sofa, her mind wandering beyond the walls of her apartment. “What are you doing, oppa, and when are you coming back,” she wonders. A ding from the door makes her jump; could it be you coming back early to surprise her?

Jiwoo rushes to look through the peeping hole in the door, and excitement instantly goes away because it’s not you who’s at the door, but rather a food delivery guy. She puts on a face that screams “I’m sick” and opens the door to accept the food. “A delivery for Mrs. Shin,” the guy says as he brings the bag closer to her. Jiwoo blushes at the reference, but before her mind scrambles even further, she quickly grabs the bag from him. “H-has m-my husband tipped you?” The guy nods with a smile on his face. “Your husband was very generous with the tip, actually.” Jiwoo smiles in pride. “That’s… how he usually is.”

Jiwoo quickly sends the delivery guy on his way, closing and locking the door behind her before high stepping towards the sofa while giggling, the discomfort of illness forgotten for a moment. She pulls out the contents of the bag, which turns out to be a large box of pizza and a side of snacks from a place named Primo, her old favorite.

Jiwoo’s forehead furrows when she notices a folded piece of paper stuck on the cover of the pizza box. “What is this,” she wonders as she unfolds it.

“Hi, baby,

I’m sorry for leaving you alone this morning, but I promise I will come back as soon as possible. That is, if you’d let me come back.

Meanwhile, please enjoy the pizza and garlic bread. I asked for extra tartar sauce because I know how much you like Primo’s tartar. By the way, feel free to finish it all.”

With a smile on her face, Jiwoo presses the letter against her chest, both touched and entertained by the gesture. “Come back to me soon, oppa; I can’t stand being away from you for too long.” She puts down the letter on the table and shifts her attention to the 8 slices of delight and deliciousness in front of her.

One slice after another enters her mouth and towards her belly, and before she knows it, there’s only one slice of pizza left while the box of garlic bread hasn’t been touched at all. “I’m keeping you for later,” she says.

-

Another ding is heard from the door, and this time, she’s certain that it’s you instead of another delivery guy, considering the current time.

Jiwoo squeals when she sees you through the peephole, and in a moment of excitement, she happens to incorrectly enter the code of the door. “Oh, are you serious right now, Lee Jiwoo,” she’s annoyed at herself, “come on, come on—there we go.”

Jiwoo greets you with arms wide open, no longer showing signs of weakness from the illness, and you’re quick to fill the space in her embrace. “Oppa, welcome home!” You give her a peck to the temple. “Thank you for welcoming me back.” She returns the peck, but it lands on your lips instead. “You’re always welcome here—after all, we’re getting back together.”

Jiwoo pulls away from the embrace momentarily and looks at you in the eyes. “Wait, we’re getting back together, right?” You chuckle. “Only if you want to; I won’t force you into giving me another chance.” She takes the turn to chuckle. “You don’t have to force me; I’m already falling for you for the second time.”

Jiwoo drags you towards the sofa, the box of reheated garlic bread waiting on a table in front of it. “I finished the pizza right away, oppa, but I saved this for you.” Her cute joyfulness makes it irresistible to not smile. “Thanks, but can I ask you something first, baby?” She nods. “Ask away, oppa.”

“You didn’t forget your meds, did you?”

Jiwoo’s gaze strays away from yours at the realization that she forgot to take her medicine twice today. “I-I forgot, oppa…” she trails off, no longer as joyful as earlier. “You forgot, huh?” She gulps to swallow the anxiety that’s stuck in her throat. “Y-yes, oppa; I-I forgot, a-and I’m sorry.”

You get on your knees in front of her. “What could you possibly have been doing that made you forget about your meds, hm?” Jiwoo’s chin gets stuck to her chest as tears begin spilling out. “O-oppa, p-please don’t get angry.” You sigh. “I’m not angry, sweetheart—I’m a bit disappointed, though.”

You ignore Jiwoo’s sobs momentarily to get the bag of medicine from the bedroom, and with it in hand, you kneel in front of her again. “Take them, please,” you say, placing the bag on her thighs. She holds the bag tightly, still unable to calm herself down from getting the brunt of your stern attitude.

You carefully reach for her cheeks, wiping her tears with your thumbs. “Baby, you know I mean well, right? I just want to help you recover as quickly as possible.” Jiwoo sniffles. “B-but you’re still as s-scary as you used to be, oppa.” You sigh again, and you can feel anger dissipating from your mind. “I’m sorry, baby; I didn’t mean it like that.” Jiwoo suddenly hugs you tightly. “Leave your businessman charade at the door; I-I need my boyfriend right now,” she begs. You nod. “Of course, baby.”

You lift Jiwoo on one shoulder—while your free hand grabs the box of garlic bread—and carry her towards the bedroom. You then lower her onto the bed, positioning her to sit right on the edge of it. “Can I entertain you with some garlic bread, baby?” She nods feebly. You guide a piece of bread towards her lips while using your other hand to pet her head tenderly, and Jiwoo rests her head against your shoulder as she munches.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart; I didn’t mean to scare you like that.” Jiwoo hums. “I know you meant well, but there’s something about that stern look of yours that always scares me shitless.” You chuckle a bit. “Yeah, anyway,” you stand up and hand her the bag of medicine, “I want to see you take these meds right now.” Jiwoo does as you demand and takes her pills together with one swig of water from the glass you’ve provided. “Satisfied, my lord?” You scoff. “Yes, I am.”

“Now,” Jiwoo’s voice drops to a sultry tone, “don’t you think I deserve a reward for being such a good girl?” You exhale deeply. “A reward, you say—what kind of reward are you seeking, my sweet?” Jiwoo palms your crotch with one hand. “One that will make me scream until I lose my voice.” She smirks when she notices the way you’re getting hard under her touch.

“Please, daddy.”

Jiwoo beams when your suit jacket falls off your shoulders, going as far as biting her lip—quite sexy, admittedly. She follows your hands as they undo the buttons of your shirt from the top. She halts your movements when your fingers land on your belt. “That’s mine, daddy.” She unlatches your belt and swiftly zip down your trousers.

“Daddy,” she looks up at you with big eyes, “may I…?” Your permission comes in the form of a wordless nod, and that is when Jiwoo yanks your boxers downwards. Her jaw drops when your sizeable and hard cock is laid bare right before her eyes. “I’ve missed you, daddy.” You scoff. “Me or my dick?” Still enamored with your cock, Jiwoo answers, “Yes.”

You gently push Jiwoo backwards, thus making her land on her back on the soft mattress. Jiwoo invites you to touch her further by parting her legs as wide as she can, and you take this most welcome opportunity by placing a finger on her nub. “Oh, fuck.” Jiwoo arches her back at the first contact. “More, please,” she begs. You continue your teasing ministrations for some time, making Jiwoo’s moans become louder.

“Oh, I’m so close, daddy—God, how am I so close already?” With a smirk on your face, you remove your finger from her nub. Jiwoo screams in agony as orgasm eludes her. “No, no, no, please,” she begs tearily, “w-why did you do that, daddy? H-how could you be so mean to me?” You chuckle. “I’m the mean one? Remind me, who decided to break us up?” Jiwoo slams her head onto the pillow in frustration. “I-it was me, daddy; I-I was so selfish and immature.”

Jiwoo moves to sit and guides your hand towards her cheek. “If you want to slap me, oppa, then slap me.” She tenses as you lift your hand, seemingly to prepare to slap her, but she quickly relaxes again when your touch is a soft one. “You know I would never harm you like that.”

Jiwoo rubs against your hand like a cat. “That doesn’t change the fact that it hurt so bad, though,” you say. She nods. “I understand—hell, I still ask myself as to why I decided to leave.” You smile a little, hiding the pain behind a simple charade. “Well, you said you were looking for something I didn’t have.” Jiwoo looks up at you with shiny eyes. “I’ve learned that the safety and comfort you provided were second to none—you were the right person who came at the wrong time.”

For some reason, her declaration sends shiver down your spine; you swear you’ve heard this somewhere before.

“So, what convinced you to take another chance to be with me, baby?” A tear escapes Jiwoo’s eyes. “I long for the warmth and love that only you can provide, my love,” she answers, her voice thick with emotions. “And I just—”

Before she can finish, you crash your lips into hers, thus interrupting her speech. “I love you, Lee Jiwoo; I love you so, so much.” Jiwoo nods as more tears come out of her eyes. “I-I love you too—t-thank you for giving me another chance.”

Jiwoo suddenly pulls you onto the bed with her. “Hold me close, oppa,” she begs, and you comply right away. She lets out whimpers into your chest, showing vulnerability like she would in the past.

“I don’t know if this will help make you feel better, but I never saw anyone when you were away from me,” you confess. Jiwoo looks up at you. “R-really? Y-you kept yourself, erm, clean?” You nod at her question, and that is when she hugs you more tightly than earlier. “You knew we’d get back together, didn’t you, oppa?” You give her a peck on the top of her head. “I guess I did.”

After crying to her heart’s content, Jiwoo pulls away from your embrace. “Now, where were we before you made me cry, oppa?” You chuckle. “Well, I denied your orgasm,” you say. Jiwoo reaches for your arm, grazing it with the tip of her fingers. “Would you be so kind as to let me have an orgasm, daddy?”

“Only if you’ll ride me.”

Jiwoo agrees to your term, straddling your lap without being told twice. “You know, daddy,” she licks her bottom lip, “I didn’t see anyone when you were away from me either.” She bends down until her mouth is next to your ear. “It will feel like you’re popping my cherry again, daddy.”

Your grip on her hips fastens at the prospect of feeling her tight walls around your cock. “Excited, aren’t you, daddy? I know I am—after all, I haven’t felt your glorious cock in so long.” You pinch her waist. “Just get on with it already, hm?” Jiwoo chuckles. “What daddy wants, daddy gets.”

Jiwoo guides you towards her entrance and slowly impales herself on your shaft. “Oh, fuck, I feel like a virgin again.” She moves her hips up and down along your length at a relaxed pace, taking her time to get reintroduced to your size. “Fuck, daddy,” she moans, “fuck, you’re… stronger than before.” You groan heavily at the feeling of being gripped by her tight walls. “And you’re… tighter than before.” Jiwoo’s aroused face is decorated with a satisfied grin. “All for you, daddy.”

After getting used to your shaft, Jiwoo picks up the pace, and it’s getting harder to ignore her cute, bouncing tits. You pull her closer towards you so your lips can reach them. Jiwoo gasps loudly when you nibble her nipple. “Oh, yes, daddy; suck it, nibble it, bite it—do anything you want, daddy.” With her urge in the back of your mind, you increase the stimulation on her tits; you take turns putting each nipple in your mouth to make sure one doesn’t get jealous of the other.

While you’re busy playing with her tits, Jiwoo is busy riding your shaft while moaning loudly. “Fuck, fuck, fuck—oh, I’m so close already,” she announces. With an ear-piercing scream (that you’re certain can be heard by her neighbors), Jiwoo comes undone on your lap. In her weak state, she crashes into you, panting so heavily because of the intensity of her orgasm. “I… I’ve missed you, daddy—I’ve missed us.” You grit your teeth as her silky walls spasm wildly around your shaft, as if trying to make you blow inside her. “I-I’ve missed you too, baby,” you reply amidst the heavy pants.

After getting down from the high of orgasm, Jiwoo pulls away slightly; her hair is a mess, her eyes are shiny, but her smile is sweet and soft as always. “Oppa, I want…” she trails off as she tries to string together some words. Your eyebrows rise, urging her to continue. “I don’t know,” she sighs, “I just… I want to be tied to you, if that makes sense.” You think about the meaning of her words. “You want something more serious, baby?” She nods, and your brain comes up with an idea.

“Well, in that case, will you marry me, Lee Jiwoo?”

Your sudden question has her in tears.

“Yes, oppa—a million times yes!” She crashes into you for a tight hug. “I will marry you in this life, the next, and the one after that.” Her answer is as good as you hope, making you shed tears of your own. “I will truly be yours, oppa; your queen, your friend, your everything.” You nod, your cheek rubbing against hers. “Thank you, my love—thank you so, so much.” Your embrace grows tighter as you bask in emotions. “Thank you to you too, oppa,” she replies.

Now that the tears are starting to dry up, Jiwoo rises from your lap, thus letting your still-hard cock slip out. She lies square on her back next to you. “Come on, my king; make love to your queen.” You waste no time to take your rightful place between her spread legs. “Can I—” “Yes,” she interjects. “Come inside, my love; fill me with your essence and make me bear your child.” You chuckle. “Alright, let’s not get ahead of ourselves now, sweetheart.”

Jiwoo was about to say something else, but before the first syllable could leave her lips, your cock invades her lower ones. “Oh, yes, just like that,” she moans out, “make love to me just like that, my lovely king.” You move your hips at an unhurried pace, savoring the sensation of her tightness. “Oh, God, how are you this tight, baby,” you wonder out loud. She chuckles lightly with a blush on her face. “That’s just how much I love you, oppa.”

Jiwoo closes her eyes as the calm lovemaking progresses, finding it more intimate and enjoyable than kinky or rough sex. Quiet hums of approval also leave her lips occasionally amidst the soft moans. “Mm, yes, my love,” she mutters. “But a bit faster, if you don’t mind?” You smile. “Of course, baby.” You turn up the speed of your movements a few notches, thus earning a smile from Jiwoo. “Yes, that’s perfect, love—now, let’s run to the gates of orgasm together.”

Jiwoo’s sexy moans serve as fuel for you in this final stretch of the sprint towards completion, and the signs of orgasm are getting more apparent; you’re starting to throb inside her. “Fill me, my love.” With her permission in the back of your head, you lodge yourself inside her entirely and just… let go.

In your post-orgasm bliss, you fall limply onto Jiwoo, who is also as weak. “Thank you,” you whisper. A soft peck lands on your cheek. “Thank you, oppa,” she returns the gratitude. “It’s now clear to me that I can’t live without you—I mean, no one can understand me like you do.” You hum. “Promise me that you won’t get bored of me again.” Jiwoo sighs. “Saying it was a huge mistake anyway,” she adds.

-

“It is with utmost joy that I introduce to you, Mr. and Mrs. Shin. May their love grow stronger with each passing day.”

The hall that is filled with family members and closest friends explodes into deafening cheers, as those present are as happy as you and Jiwoo are for the new status.

You and her turn towards the crowd, waving at them, and you happen to spot your brother and his wife giving you four thumbs-ups. You put your hand on your chest to express gratitude to them for their wonderful, restless support for the past few months during the preparation of the wedding.

Jiwoo steals your attention by turning your face towards hers. “I love you, my boring husband.” Her words make you burst out laughing. “Boring means safe, yes?” She nods with an eye smile on her face. “Yes, I feel safe with you,” she says. You quickly capture her lips with yours.

“I feel safe with you too, baby, and I love you more.”

[leviackermanscleaningbuddy]

SKZ DRABBLE-Seo Changbin

When you're in a constant, never ending battle inside your own head, who better to call upon than the God of War himself? or A retelling of Ares and Aphrodite where you're the good girl beaten down by a toxic relationship, he's the morally grey 'bad' guy with a motorcycle, and maybe, just maybe, each other is exactly what you both needed.

Tags: SKZ, Stray Kids, Stay, SKZ x you, SKZ x reader, Skz Greek Gods AU, Ares, Aphrodite, femreader, y/n, seo changbin, changbin, bin, skz changbin, changbin x you, changbin x reader, seo changbin x you, seo changbin x reader, skz imagines, skz reactions, skz scenarios, skz smut, skz fluff, skz angst, skz fic, skz drabble, fem reader, afab reader

Genre: Angst, Fluff, Light Smut

Warnings: Abusive Past Relationships, Domestic Violence, Emotional Abuse, Abusive Ex, Injuries, Insecurities, Self Image Issues, Self Doubt

A/N: For all of you who, like me, are absolute sluts for "Who did this to you?" and a powerful man on his knees before an even more powerful woman. This one's for you.

This one was a long labor of love, you guys. Hope you enjoy. <3

P.S. This is Changbin's motorcylce if you even care.

Soundtrack: 🛡️ State of My Head by Shinedown 🌹 Daydreams by We Three 🛡️ Bleed by Connor Kauffman 🌹 Cravin' by Stileto 🛡️ Who’s Afraid of Little Old Me? By Taylor Swift

Title: The Rose and the Sword

You feel like you can't breathe.

You might vomit.

Fuck.

Why was he here? How did he know where you were? You'd thought, of all places, a mortal party would be safe, that he'd never debase himself enough to come here, you'd finally be outside of his clutches.

But he was here, and now, you were panicking.

Terrified.

Stomach in your throat, heart pounding in your ears.

Your barely healed over split lip seems to throb at the thought of him, as if it knows its bestower is near, hunting, stalking you.

Pushing past a few mortal party goers, their faces obscured by their masquerade masks, you ignore their yelps of outrage, stumbling around the nearest corner and down the darkened hallway beyond.

Exit, exit, where the fuck was the exit?

You can practically feel his hot breath on your neck, though you know it's just your imagination, and the thought makes your entire body go numb with fear.

You can't let him put his hands on you again. Not now, not ever.

With that thought, you take a sharp left around a second corner, into another hallway packed with bodies, the sound of the pounding music almost drowned out by the rush of blood in your ears, the sound of your panting breaths breaking harsh through your lips.

He's going to catch you, he's going to find you, and when he does-

No.

Before you can wonder what the hell you're doing, you flatten yourself against the wall and slide between someone's faceless body and the cool stone against your back, breathing frantic.

Glancing up, you note offhandedly that the person you've chosen to use as cover is tall, tall enough that they loom over you. When they turn, staring down at you, face obscured by the twisted angles of their lion's mask, mouth agape in a ferocious roar, you can't quite make out the color of their eyes, hidden in shadow.

"Please." You manage to get out around the lump in your throat, staring up into the dark recesses of the mask. "My ex-I just need to-"

You can't get the words out, your throat closes in fear as you hear his familiar voice at the end of the hall, angrily pushing through party goers.

The man towering over you stares down at you, not uttering a word, face expressionless, and you wonder, for the briefest of breathless moments, if he's going to move away, leaving you out in the open.

He has no obligation to help a strange woman begging for help at a party, after all.

But then, as your demise grows closer and closer still, the man leans forward suddenly, caging you back against the wall with his huge, beefy forearms, his muscular, broad body blocking you completely from view.

Your breath catches in your throat, you don't dare breathe, as his forehead meets yours and his shadow covers you completely.

You hold your breath, squeezing your eyes shut and not moving a muscle, as the angry voice of your pursuer sounds just to your left, pausing for a moment, before his harshly muttered sentiments recede down the hall, disappearing into the sounds of the revelers.

Without a word, the large man who just became your savior pulls back, straightening, and your breath tumbles out of you in one fell swoop, your fingers shaking at your side.

The music seems to come back into focus, and you're not sure when it had faded.

"Thank you." You stumble out, but he's already turning to leave, and you adjust your mask on your own face, swallowing hard.

Your resist the urge to call out to him as he disappears into the crowd.

He was a stranger after all.

A stranger first, your hero second.

With one last look, you search for the strange man, but he seems to have gone. You duck your head, and hurry from the party, leaving it all behind.

You're sure you'll never cross paths again.

Somewhere in the distance, the fates laughed.

🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹

Changbin's glove hits the bag again, harder this time.

Thwack.

Felix glances around from the other side, his brow arched, a mixture of admiration and concern twisting his pretty features.

Changbin ignores him, and sends another solid punch forward, grunting at the impact.

Thwack.

"You wanna talk about it?" Felix asks, finally stepping around the bag that Changbin is abusing, as he starts to unwind the wraps from his own hands, sweat glistening on the golden skin of his bare chest.

Changbin shakes his head and throws another series of hits, one after the other.

Thwack. Thwack. Thwack.

"There's nothing to talk about. I'm sure I'll never see her again. But-fuck-"

He feels anger bubble into his throat at the thought of you-obviously terrified, begging a stranger for help like your life was in danger.

And judging by the split in your lip and the bruising he had seen around your eye, even with your mask and the dim lighting, he didn't doubt that maybe it really was.

He growls in frustration and hits the training bag with another series of violent throws, ignoring the growing ache in his knuckles.

Thwack, thwack, thwack, thwack.

"Okay." Felix steps between him and the bag as he takes a step back to adjust his footing, giving him a hard, pointed look that has him reluctantly lowering his gloves. "It seems like there's a lot to process here, but the punching bag is not at fault, so let's take a break-"

Changbin sighs and reaches down to strip off the first glove, tossing it to the side a little more aggressively than necessary.

Leave it to Felix to want to talk things through. Some therapeutic shit or something.

Changbin preferred to deal with his problems the old fashioned way, he always had.

Sweat them out, and if that wasn't an option, then fuck them out.

There was a reason the huge ass house he owned had been designed with a private state of the art gym, and a king bed in every room.

He crouches down on the mat, ripping his other glove off before he begins to unwind his wraps jerkily, ignoring the bleeding splits marking his knuckles.

Felix sits down across from him, watching him, and Changbin finally glances up, sending his best friend a glower. "What?"

The sun god merely shrugs and glances down at his own hands, before he tosses his wrap into his bag and reaches for a swig of his water.

"I dunno, kind of seems like you need to talk about some things."

"I don't." Changbin snaps back, clenching his jaw. His muscles ache, his entire body tense with irritation.

Felix doesn't give up. "I think you do, if the current state of your knuckles is any indication." He inclines his head toward Changbin's thrashed knuckles with a little smirk.

"Felix, I said-" His voice turns dangerous, his words slow, as if he's really trying to hit them home. "-I don't need to talk about it."

Felix, to his credit, doesn't look cowed in the slightest by the God of Wrath's obvious fury.

Changbin stands back up, bouncing on the balls of his feet. "What I need, is to spar. So come on. Get up."

Felix sighs, but pushes himself to his own feet and silently begins to rewrap his hands as Changbin heads to the regulation size boxing ring in the very center of the gym.

He slides between the ropes, his own hands already stinging from before, and throws a few punches into the air experimentally.

Jab.

He doesn't need to talk about it.

Jab.

He's never let a woman stay in his head longer than a day.

Jab.

Tomorrow, he won't even remember your face.

Jab.

The fates are cruel, but surely not that cruel, right?

Felix appears before him, hands up and ready, and Changbin hits him immediately with a frantic flurry of throws.

He needs to get this tension, and you, out of his system, and fast.

The steady feel of his gloves glancing off of Felix's well timed defenses helps him steady his resolve.

He breathes evenly-in, out, in out.

And throws another round of punches.

Thwack.

Thwack.

He's already forgotten the twisted look of horror on your face. The ring of bruising around your eye. The desperate pull of your full lips as you begged him to protect you.

'Please.'

Thwack.

🛡️🛡️🛡️🛡️🛡️🛡️🛡️🛡️🛡️🛡️🛡️🛡️🛡️🛡️🛡️🛡️🛡️🛡️🛡️🛡️🛡️🛡️

Thwack.

Your glove bounces off of Changbin's and he grins at you as he parries, readjusting on the balls of his feet as he dodges you easily.

"C'mon, princess, focus."

You grit your teeth and try to forget the sweat dripping down your spine, the feel of your hair plastered to your sticky, overheated skin.

You take in his position, and throw another punch, this one aimed for his side.

Your glove lands solidly, and Changbin grunts with the force of the impact, steadying you as your body collides with his on the follow up, your momentum driving you forward into him before you can right yourself.

You grin up at him, a brow arched as you both breathe heavily.

"Like that?"

"Yeah, fuck, princess-" He swears, wincing slightly, but grinning down at you proudly. "-just like that."

🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹

You don't know why you're here tonight.

Or maybe you do-because you're sure he won't be here tonight.

You can feel the eyes on you-the whispers and the glances at the bruising that still has yet to disappear beneath your eye-but you doggedly ignore them, taking a long sip of your ambrosia.

There is a commotion by the doors that lead into the grand ballroom, and offhandedly, your gaze draws to the men who enter-one with hair as yellow as the sun and a dainty beauty that puts even the women here to shame and the other large and muscular, wearing a breastplate-an odd choice for a party-and wickedly, dangerously handsome.

You're drawn to the latter of the two for some strange reason, and Artemis, standing beside you, must notice.

You feel her elbow you, and when you glance to her curiously she shakes her head at you with a knowing smirk.

"Oh, no girl, don't even go there." She warns you in a low voice, and Athena follows her gaze, nodding in agreement immediately. The huntress points toward the men with a tip of her glass. "You just got out of a shitty relationship, protecting your peace and all that, the God of War is hardly the person you want to look to right now."

Ares.

That's why he looked familiar.

There's a weird nagging in the back of your brain, that you're drawn to him for more than just the reason that you've heard about him, but you push it down, giving the huntresses a tight smile as you take another sip of your drink.

"Yeah, of course." You agree with a slight nod, but still, you find your gaze drawn back to the man in the chest plate.

You use the excuse of needing some fresh air to duck out the party a few hours later, heading for the glass doors that lead to the back balcony, and the ensuing acres of dark garden beyond.

The night is chilly, and the balcony and garden are lit up by hundreds of floating fairy lights, making the cobblestones and fountains almost seem surrealistic beneath the twinkle of the small lights.

Sighing, you lean against the railing, the sounds from the party drifting through the open doors behind you.

Tentatively, without really thinking about it, your fingers go up to your eye, cautiously feeling around the socket and wincing slightly when it's still tender to the touch.

You'd done your best to hide the bruising for the party, but it was still obvious-your skin mottled with varying hues of purple into blue into green.

There is the sound of a boot fall behind you, and you whirl, straightening up, because you're never quite out of fight or flight mode, even when you're supposed to be relaxed.

You have him to thank for that.

In front of you, bulky frame silhouetted against the open French doors, hands clenched at his sides, scowl on his handsome face, stands Ares.

Your breath catches in your throat.

The twinkling fairy lights reflect off the fine engraved metal that makes up his chest plate as he advances toward you, and you take a step back, lower back hitting the cold marble of the railing.

Panic claws its way up your throat, and your heart pounds hard against your ribcage.

Maybe he'd seen you staring earlier? Maybe he thought you were being rude?

Frantic thoughts flit through your head as he takes another step and then stops, just a few feet away from you, his solid, heavy boots coming to a stop on the cobblestones beneath your feet.

"I-" You start to say, even though you have no idea where you're going to go with this or what your next words will be.

He narrows his eyes, gaze flicking across your face, and when he finally speaks his words are a growl. "Who did that to you?"

You stare at him dumbly. "What?"

He raises his chin toward your face, grinding his teeth, his jaw clenched so tightly you can see the way a muscle ticks beneath his skin.

"Your face."

You feel like you've been doused in cold water, your lips parting uselessly, your fingers going up unthinkingly to the bruising you know surrounds your eye.

He takes another step toward you, and you sidestep, back now hitting the brick that makes up the wall of the house.

One of his large hands goes down hard next to your head, making you jump slightly, fingers clenched into a fist, his knuckles whitening.

He's got you caged in, glaring down at you with fury in his dark eyes.

"Who the fuck did that to you?"

The dangerously cold tone to his words has a shiver running down your spine as you swallow.

You suddenly have the very clear intuition, like a heavy pit in your stomach, that if you were to give him a name, someone would no doubt end up dead tonight.

You swallow again, meeting his gaze, breath coming in little harsh exhales now.

And then it hits you.

Why you know him.

Your eyes widen.

"Lion mask."

He'd been the one who had fucking saved you at the party.

Brief confusion replaces the anger in his eyes, before his jaw tightens once more, that muscle ticking beneath his skin again in a way that has you wanting to trace a finger over it.

He huffs, and pushes himself off the wall, stepping back, putting space between you again.

You feel like you can breathe once more.

Simultaneously, at the same time, you feel like you've just lost all the air in your lungs.

Without another word or backward glance, he turns on his heel and stalks back through the doors into the party.

You slump against the wall, reaching out to the railing for support, your hands shaking slightly.

Dear Gods, you really hope that's the last time you have a run in with the God of War.

However, Fate is a fucking fickle thing, isn't it?

A fickle thing indeed.

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You're coming out of your favorite coffee shop on Olympus-small and quaint, and filled with the freshest flowers, courtesy of Persephone-when you stop dead in your tracks, eyes going wide.

You must be delirious. You reach up and feel your own forehead, just for good measure, but you're not feverish, not even warm.

The god of war and wrath is standing in front of you.

Tall, imposing, impossibly broad arms crossed over his chest as he stares you down, he's dressed in dark jeans, a t-shirt, and leather jacket today, and he's leaning against-a motorcycle.

Because of fucking course he is.

You glance behind you, to make sure he's not pinning someone else beneath his sinfully dark gaze, but nope, the sidewalk is empty.

Well shit.

Against your better judgement, you take a step in his direction, fingers tightening subconsciously around your iced latte.

You swallow, fighting to keep your gaze on his and not look down at your feet, and manage a small, questioning, "Hi again?"

His features don't change, not even when he holds out a helmet in your direction.

You stare at the thing like it's a hydra with seven heads.

"What do-" You start to ask, and he juts his chin over his shoulder to the large bike he currently leans against.

"Get on."

It's a command, low, rough, but not dangerous, you don't think, and your stupid body, already used to following commands and not asking questions, lest you receive a punishment, is already trailing toward him.

"You trust too easily." He remarks in a low timber that has you glancing away, biting your lip, your cheeks reddening.

"I don't-" trust easily, you start to protest, but stop yourself, biting your tongue.

He's right. It's your greatest flaw.

You glance down at the offered helmet once more, and clearing your throat, you carefully set down your coffee, before you stand in front of him, head bowed, avoiding his gaze, your hands going to clench behind the small of your back.

You hear him sigh, and then the sound of a boot on the pavement as he takes a step toward you.

His finger goes beneath your chin, and you startle slightly at the contact, even as he raises your gaze to his own, his dark eyes suddenly swirling.

"Don't do that." He warns in a low, gravelly voice, and you part your lips to ask what he means, but he's already tugging the helmet down over your head expertly.

"But-" You hesitate, not quite studying him, as you flick your eyes over his features and then away again, trying not to shiver at the feel of his fingers brushing your throat as he buckles the straps beneath your chin. "-you're a god."

His eyes flash up to yours. "And you're a goddess." He counters right back, heat making his eyes impossibly dark as he meets your gaze. "But I'm starting to see that someone was incredibly keen on forcing you to forget that."

You stare at him in shock, eyes wide, lips parted, but he doesn't say anything else, flipping the visor down over your face with a flick of his fingers before he turns and swings a leg over the bike. He turns the key and roars the engine to life, and the low rumble that you can feel through the pavement makes a shiver run up your spine.

You're not entirely sure if it's fear or something else.

He glances to you, arching a brow, and you take that as a sign that you should move your ass.

Forgetting your latte on the sidewalk, not sure how you'd hold it anyway, you cautiously swing your leg over the seat behind him.

The bike purrs between your legs like a feral jungle animal, much like the mask its owner had worn at the party that fateful night.

Without warning, he reaches back with one large hand and gathers your wrists in the warmth of his palm, tugging your arms to go around his waist, even as you let out a little yelp of surprise and fall into the broadness of his back.

"Hold on tight." He admonishes you, glancing back at you for a brief moment before he revs the bike and you take off away from the curb in a peal of tires on pavement.

You shriek and cling to him so tightly you would worry if he were any one else that you were strangling the air from his lungs, burying your face into the leather that stretches across his back, eyes scrunched shut.

You're on a motorcycle, plastered to the God of Wrath, going hells knows where.

Fucking hells, what have you done?

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Changbin has been steel hard ever since you willingly, without question, slid onto his bike behind him.

He adjusts himself subtly with one hand as he directs the motorcycle onto the straight way that leads back to his mansion, shifting slightly, but that makes it worse, because he's suddenly reminded of your heat at his back, your arms wrapped around his waist so tightly he can't think.

Fucking hells, he really needs to get a grip.

Trusting so blindly could get you into trouble-judging by the bruising he'd seen on your face a few times now, he has no doubt it already has-but at the same time, something primal within him purrs with satisfaction that you seem to put your faith in him so easily.

Pulling into the large garage, he kills the engine and the silence is deafening, his boots hitting the cement, putting the kickstand down as he slides off the bike with practiced ease.

He glances to you, and he can't read your expression beneath the visor of the helmet he'd fastened beneath your chin earlier.

Gods, your skin beneath his fingers-

He pushes the thought from his mind and ignores the aching erection pulsing beneath the stiff denim of his jeans, taking a step toward you and offering a hand when you still haven't moved.

You hesitate, and then put your hand into his and let him tug you off the back of the bike, albeit a little shakily, but you're on your feet.

He steps forward, pushing up the visor that obscures your face, and resists the urge to run his gaze over every inch of your expression, instead, focusing on his fingers as they move to unbuckle the straps beneath your chin.

"What are we doing here?" You ask, and your voice is small, unsure, and it makes Changbin's anger flare back to life in the pit of his stomach, like someone had told you at one point that you weren't allowed to ask questions and now you're scared to voice them.

The thought makes him see fucking red.

He tugs the helmet off and you swallow, but you don't run from him as he slides past you to put the helmet on the bike, the place where your arms brush sending sparks of electricity down his skin.

He glances to you, and taking a step back to put space between the two of you again, he crosses his arms over his chest, holding your gaze seriously.

The way you curl into yourself, like you're trying to make yourself smaller under his gaze, less of a target, just solidifies something in his very being that this is where you need to be.

Fates be damned, he's not gonna let whoever hurt you lay so much as a finger on you ever again.

His voice is rough with barely restrained anger-not with you, no, never with you, but you flinch anyway-when he speaks again.

"I'm going to teach you how to fight."

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"You know, technically we don't even need to go to these things."

You glance up from where you stand in front of your vanity, finishing up a few touches on your hair and lipstick, at Changbin's voice as he emerges from the huge walk in closet, adjusting the cufflinks on his suit.

You bite back a grin, returning to looping your necklace around your throat and clasping it at the nape of your neck as you answer back thoughtfully, "Yes, but where's the fun in that?"

You hear him huff in response, swearing slightly, probably battling with his cufflinks still, and then the sound of his heavy footfalls behind you.

You glance up as he moves to stand at your back, towering over you, his broadness dwarfing you, as he puts his hands on your hips, and leans over to press a lingering kiss to the side of your neck, running his nose along your skin for a moment.

"You find these things fun?" He remarks back like he doesn't quite believe you, meeting your gaze in the reflection of the mirror, his fingers digging into the silken fabric of the gown you wear. "I think they're a huge waste of time and an excuse for Zeus to be vain and show off in front of his brothers. He just likes to remind them he holds the crown and they don't. It's a giant fucking pissing contest."

You laugh at that, setting down the lipstick you had just finished applying, and reach up, cupping his jaw with your fingers as you arch a brow at him in the mirror with the hint of a smirk.

"Yes, but also, it's an excuse for me to show you off, pet, and I like the jealous glares I get. It feeds my ego."

He rolls his eyes, but you can tell he's biting back a grin of his own as he leans down and presses his lips to your pulse point once more.

"Yeah, yeah. Got it. I'm arm candy."

You turn and lean up on tiptoes to connect your lips with his for the briefest moment, careful of your lipstick, running your fingers along the strong line of his jaw before you pull back. "That may be part of the truth, my love-" You tell him softly, lips curving slightly, as you reach up and brush away some rogue lipstick left behind at the corner of his mouth, your eyes flicking up to his. "-we do make an incredibly striking couple, but for a million other reasons, far more important, just know, there is no one I would rather have at my side than you."

********************

Changbin downs the small glass of ambrosia in his hand in one go, and once again, for the thousandth time that night, finds himself cursing these stupid fucking parties.

There's not enough booze, he hates wearing a fucking suit, and everyone is far too uptight, not to mention-

He finds his gaze drawn to you once more, across the space of the open garden, the twinkling fairy lights magicked to dance above the partygoers heads lighting up the shine of your hair as you tip your head back and laugh at something Artemis must have said.

The open back of the dress you wear reveals flawless skin criss-crossed with tinkling delicate silver chains, all the way down to your hips, leaving little to the imagination, and the front is just as plunging, a deep V between the perfect hills of your breasts.

Changbin groans inwardly, as he reaches for another glass of ambrosia off a passing satyr's tray and downs it unceremoniously.

Fuck, he'd really just like to have you all to himself right now, completely at his mercy.

Instead, he's here, and you're there, faking conversation and smiles for the sake of the fucking party.

If you can even call it a party, it's more of a massive fucking cock block at this point.

He scoffs silently and adjusts himself subtly in the pants of his suit.

Luckily, before he can get too fucking hard watching you, his attention is drawn elsewhere.

"Brother." Kratos steps up beside him, champagne flute held between delicate long fingers, his pale, almost white hair slicked back from his forehead, his translucent blue eyes scanning to Changbin in a sort of disdain look before he glances back over the party.

Changbin's never liked the guy, and they're only half brothers at best, but he forces his greeting out somewhat semi cordially anyway with a nod and a grunted, "Kratos" in return.

The god of strength takes a long sip of his drink, and then his eyes skate back over to Changbin in a way that makes his skin crawl.

"You know I don't need to tell you that you shouldn't have let my dear sister in law out of the house looking like that, especially not with her-" His lips pull into a sneer slightly, and Changbin feels himself instantly bristling in response. "-powers and proclivities."

Changbin's gaze follows Kratos' back to you, tilting your head toward Athena as you listen to something she's saying low in your ear, and his eyes are drawn to the bare line of your shoulder, the shadows darkening the notches between your spine, the curling lines of the tattoo that just peaks out from the plunging back of your dress.

His knuckles go white around the glass he's holding, his jaw popping as he grits his teeth.

"Not that it's any of your fucking business-" He finally manages to get out, faking a meter of calm as he glances away from you and back to the man at his side, who is watching him now with a knowing smirk and a cocked brow. Changbin has to force himself not to smash the glass in between his too tight fingers. "-but my wife can wear whatever the fuck she damn well pleases."

Kratos scoffs at that, annoyance flashing across his too pretty features as he rolls his eyes. "Oh please. And I suppose now is the part where you tell me, rather clichély at that, that that's because 'you know how to fight'?"

"No." Changbin shakes his head, and he gives the other man a sudden sharp toothed, dangerous, predatory smile, one that has Kratos obviously swallowing, Adam's apple bobbing nervously as he takes a wavering step back.

"Because she does."

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It's the third time you've trained with Changbin.

And you're not making any progress.

Your hits are still clumsy and way too soft, not precise at all, and your defensive maneuvers are even worse.

You can tell he's pulling his punches to keep from actually hurting you, but no matter how hard you try, you can't seem to avoid his hits, ending each session with bruises and scrapes, and an entirely too familiar sinking feeling in the pit of your stomach-failure.

You're a failure, and he's getting frustrated with you, just like everyone always does when you can't live up to their expectations.

So you're not surprised when he snaps today, blowing out a harsh breath, tugging off his gloves and tossing them on the floor of the ring at his feet, his chest heaving-whether from exertion or anger, you're not sure, but you'd guess the latter-especially judging from the darkening of his gaze as it narrows in on you.

"You have fists, do you not?" He asks in open irritation, eyes flashing, and your mouth falls open slightly, not really sure what he's expecting your response to be.

"Yes?" You reply back in a hesitant tone, and he takes a step toward you, and you instinctively shrink back from him.

His voice drops into a dangerous growl as he advances toward you. "Then fucking use them."

It's an instinct, you know that, to curl in on yourself, make yourself a smaller target, maybe avoid a bit of the fury, the punishment, coming your way.

Your arms curl around your ribcage and you won't meet his angry gaze.

Felix-the sun god-who you've met several times now, who always seems to be in the gym, working out at the same time as the two of you, who seems to be one of the God of Wrath's few friends, gets to his feet outside the ring, watching the interaction warily.

"Changbin." He warns in a low tone.

Changbin pays him no heed, attention focused purely on you.

"You're not even trying-" He chastises you, voice quivering slightly with held back fury, as he takes another step toward you, narrowing the gap. You feel as if you can't breathe. "-and I fucking hate that." His glare darkens, and his hands, wrapped around the knuckles, form angry, shaking fists at his side. His voice raises. "Hit me. Hurt me. Just fucking try something, for gods sakes!"

You swallow hard, mouth suddenly dry as he closes the last distance between you, your back hitting the ropes, and you duck your head, closing your eyes and digging your nails into the palms of your hands, hidden beneath the thick boxing gloves, readying yourself for the sting of a slap you already know is coming, you've already prepared for.

Suddenly, Felix is between the two of you, his tall body blocking your own, his hands going to shove at Changbin's chest, pushing him back a step.

"Changbin, mate-" He admonishes again, this time in a dangerously serious, louder tone. "-lower your fucking voice, okay? Can't you see she's terrified?"

Changbin stares at him for a long moment, his hands still balled into fists, and then he blinks, and blinks again, before his gaze moves past his friend to where you cower back against the ropes, arms wrapped around yourself as if to hold it together.

Suddenly, he takes a step back, and then another.

"Fuck." He swears, reaching up to rake an agitated hand through his thick dark hair, before he turns and ducks beneath the ropes of the ring.

"Fuck." He says again, louder this time, as he shoves over one of the punching bags, sending it clattering to the floor, on his way to the door. "Fuck!"

Felix turns to you, your eyes wide, your chest still heaving in panicked breaths.

He gives you the hint of a regretful smile, his large golden eyes soft beneath the fringe of his almost blindingly blonde hair.

Like the sun, you think vaguely.

"He's not angry with you, you know." He murmurs gently, as the door slams behind the disappearing god of wrath, making you both wince.

You swallow hard, and give a slight nod, slowly unwrapping your arms from around your ribs. "I know."

Do you?

You don't know how, but beneath the instinctual panic, for the first time in your life, you somehow do.

*********

"Sloppy." Changbin tells you in a bored sort of voice, as he once again, easily, blocks your jab with an almost nonchalant parry, and you grit your teeth as you have to take a step back to regain your balance, reaching up to swipe at the sweat gathering on your forehead with a forearm.

"You don't have to be such a dick, you know." You manage to get out between catching your breath, getting back into position even as he crooks his hand at you and readies up himself.

"I'm not being a dick-" He scoffs with a roll of his eyes, as you head for him again and once more, he dodges you easily, and you make a sound of frustration. "-I'm being hard on you because if you fight like this when it really matters, your opponent isn't going to be as forgiving as I am."

You heave in a breath, and then another, aware that across the ring, he seems to have hardly broken a sweat.

It's fucking infuriating, and you can feel the anger making your blood hot the longer this goes on.

"Oh, yeah? Well, if you're not being a dick, then don't fucking act like one." You counter back boldly, and Changbin arches a brow, studying you curiously for a moment.

It's the first time you've ever talked back to him-or anyone-for that matter.

And it feels good.

You take another go at him, and this time, when your glove doesn't make contact, and Changbin utters another, 'half-assed', you let the anger rising in your gut fuel you, and immediately round on him for another hit, not giving him time to reset in between.

He still manages to parry, of course, but you can tell you catch him off guard by the way a slight smirk graces his lips.

"You're fucking infuriating, you know that?" You seethe, even as you send a flurry of quicker blows in his direction, trying to catch him on the wrong foot and land something, anything.

"Yeah, and you're still fucking weak, princess, so how about we don't waste precious breath on things we both already know?" He counters right back, and hot anger flushes your already exertion reddened cheeks.

"Is this what you fucking want?" You spit back, as you manage to make him take a step toward the ropes, and you see slight surprise in his eyes at the power behind the next blow he knocks away. "To make me fucking mad?"

"I want-" He grunts out, narrowly dodging another swing from your glove, and you feel weirdly smug at the way he's breathing harder now. "-you to hold your fucking own. Whatever you need to do that is just a means to an end."

You swing at him with a cry, and you're shocked when your glove connects solidly with his ribs.

You freeze, and both of you stand there for a moment, breathing hard, staring down the miniscule distance between each other.

"There she is." Changbin murmurs in between breaths, and you hate how warm the begrudging respect in his dark eyes makes your already flushed skin. "That's what I've been looking for. Anger."

"You're a fucking asshole, trying to get a rise out of me like that." You pant back, eyes flashing dangerously, as you drop your glove from his ribs and he straightens. "You're just trying to piss me off."

His lips curve into a smirk. "I'm not trying to do anything." He counters back. "You had it in you all along. I was just trying to get you to see that you don't need fucking anyone, except you. You did that, nobody else."

His words reverberate around your skull and sink into your bones.

"Still an asshole move." You mutter back begrudgingly, and he grins.

"Yeah, well, I never claimed not to be an asshole, princess. It's part of my charm."

Suddenly, without thinking, you rear back and hit him square in the face.

He stumbles back, and immediately, your entire body goes numb as carefully, slowly, he reaches up and swipes at the blood now trickling from his nose, staring at it on his fingers, before he glances back to you.

His eyes darken, and you shrink, immediately caving in as you know punishment is coming. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean-"

He stares at you, eyes darkening even further, and you bite down so hard on your tongue you taste the familiar tang of copper.

"Atta-fucking-girl." He growls, taking a step toward you, closing the distance, and your jaw drops, your mind going blank.

His large hand goes to the back of your head instantly, fingers tangling into your hair, and he tugs you to him, crashing his mouth into yours.

You can taste the blood on his tongue-whether it be your own or his you're not sure-but immediately, he's delving into you wildly, passionately, and you find yourself responding in kind, your body taking what it needs from him almost with the same frenzy.

He takes you with him as he ducks beneath the ropes, his mouth never leaving yours, guiding you blindly down from the ring, and neither of you stops to surface for breath until the backs of your knees are hitting a chair, and Changbin's pulling away so he can focus on tugging down the leggings you wear.

"Changbin-" You breathe, and he gives a slight shake of his head, pulling off your pants and dropping them to the floor before he takes a few steps back, shutting the door that leads from the private gym.

You stare at him, wide eyed, suddenly conscious to the fact that you're bare from the waist down, sitting in front of him.

And gods, you really need his mouth back on yours.

"Changbin-" It comes off as more of a whine this time, and you find yourself reaching out, fingers searching for his beltloops to tug him back to you.

Instantly, he pushes away your hands, his back hitting the door with a thud as he shakes his head again.

"Uh, uh, princess." He pins you down with eyes the color of flaming coal. "I'm not gonna lay a fucking finger on you until you've made yourself come."

Your mouth drops open at that, and heat floods your cheeks.

Changbin grins in a predatory fashion, his eyes skimming over you, tracing down to the way your thighs rub together subtly for friction, your knuckles white from gripping the edges of the chair.

"I want you to see you've got all the fucking power here. You're capable of making yourself feel incredible fucking pleasure, and you don't need anyone else to do it."

You stare at him, letting his words sink in, and then, before you can talk yourself out of it, or doubt, you slowly let your hand slide down between the juncture of your thighs, touching the wetness there.

You start upward as your fingers find your clit, your mouth dropping open on a stuttered gasp, and Changbin groans in response, letting his head fall back against the door, his eyes never leaving you, tracking what you're doing through a hooded gaze.

"That's it, princess, fuck, just like that." You let yourself slide a finger inside as you watch him reach down a hand and palm the obvious erection growing through his pants.

It's invigorating, thrilling even, to know you're holding your own pleasure in your hand, and causing such an intense reaction in him just by watching simultaneously.

It's heady, and you can feel your pleasure pooling in your core in tight coils as you continue to massage and please yourself with your fingers, keeping your eyes on his.

When you gasp and send yourself over the edge, milking yourself through orgasm with slick fingers, whimpers leaving your lips, vision going hazy with stars for a few long moments, a throaty groan leaves Changbin's lips, as if torn from deep inside.

It makes you plummet even harder and faster than before, and you find yourself panting through one of the most intense orgasms you've ever had.

When you can see again, and the stars have faded, you pull your slick fingers out, and glance to Changbin, and your breath hitches at the sight of him sinking down to his hands and knees, crawling toward you, eyes dark and predatory.

"Don't-" You start to protest, but he reaches you and putting a palm on your knees, knocks your thighs apart, spreading you wide open to him.

"Let me see." He commands in a rasping purr, and you watch as he leans forward and kisses his way up your inner thigh slowly, sending a shudder up your spine.

He glances up at you. "I intend to spend every day on my knees for you, princess, worshipping every inch of you the way you deserve."

"Gods-" He continues, trailing his lips up your inner thigh, licking at the slick that still coats your skin. His fingers dig into your skin. "-you're so fucking p-"

You feel yourself hollow out. Time seems to stop.

Here it comes.

What every fucking person you've ever been with, given exactly what they wanted, ends up saying at the end, after you have nothing left.

'So fucking-'

-pretty.'

-perfect.'

It's always the same superficial compliments, observations, and it leaves you feeling more empty than before.

"-powerful." He finishes, stroking a finger down your inner thigh, moving his gaze across you slowly, respectfully, as if in awe.

You stare at him, mind taking a moment to comprehend, jaw slightly slack.

'You're so fucking powerful.'

Not pretty, not perfect, powerful.

His words send pools of warmth down into your lower stomach and core and you thread your fingers through the thick locks of his dark hair as he holds your gaze.

You swallow, and when you speak, your voice comes out on a soft shaky breath.

"So make good on your earlier promise then, and worship me."

He grins, ducking his head to suck a long open mouthed kiss just above your heat that has you shivering.

"Gladly."

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You walk past the loud, drunken mortals, arm slipped through Changbin's, and just catch the tale end of one of their comments as they pass.

"-dressed like that, she's practically begging to be choking on my cock-

Immediately, you stiffen, and Changbin releases you, turning slowly to face the stumbling men, his eyes gleaming predatorily.

"What the fuck did you just say about her?" He growls out.

The man who had spoken foolishly turns to squint at Changbin, his gaze unfocused, his expression souring.

They don't recognize you in your mortal glamours, because if they did, the man would surely be backtracking heavily by now.

Instead, he simply sneers and repeats, "Said your broad over there is practically asking to be choking on my c-"

Before he can get the sentence out again, Changbin is at his throat, hand around his neck, lifting him up into the air as his back hits the wall of the nearby bar, his breath leaving his lungs in an audible whoosh.

"I know what you fucking said, scum, I wasn't asking you so you could repeat it, I was asking you to give you a chance to change it." Changbin growls out dangerously, eyes flashing and face a mask of fury that has the man blanching.

The man claws wildly at Changbin's fingers wrapped around his throat, his eyes bulging, his face turning red. He wildly flicks his gaze to you. "C'mon, lady, put your fucking dog on a leash-"

You step up beside them then, own eyes darkening in a warning.

"Changbin." You say in an eerily calm, cool voice. "Put him down."

Changbin does as you ask, releasing the man, who drops to the ground at his feet like a drunken sack of potatoes, a stream of unintelligible curses spewing from his mouth.

Stepping forward, you don't give the man a chance to catch his breath before you're hooking his jaw with your palm, and sliding three of your fingers into his mouth.

He gags, struggling against your hold, as you pin down his tongue, shoving your fingers just far enough into the back of his throat that you can feel the fleshy bit there, stuttering his breath, saliva pooling and dribbling down his lips as he tries to expel your fingers from his mouth.

You crouch down then, going eye to eye with him, expression and voice level.

"And here you were before, thinking I would be the one gagging." You observe casually, watching the way he struggles.

"Now, I don't give a fuck what you say about me-" You muse almost boredly, cocking your head slightly as you shove your fingers farther down his throat and he gags around them. "-though I'd be careful, because he's liable to take your head off." I motion over my shoulder with a tilt of my head to the watching Changbin looming behind me.

Another push, another retch around the intrusion of your fingers finding their way down his throat.

You lean your head toward his, lowering your voice. "However, if you ever fucking talk about him like that again, I will rip out your tongue, and then your balls, are we clear?"

The man nods frantically, eyes watering and face red, lips stretched around your fingers.

You pull them from his mouth and stand, and he goes over on all fours, retching and coughing and spewing spittle onto the ground as he tries to regain his breath.

You wipe your fingers on the skirt of your dress, eying him with nothing short of disdain as you stare down at him on the ground at your feet.

"You look good on your hands and knees at my feet like that. Maybe you should consider the whole dog title you were throwing around so carelessly earlier." You muse, before you turn from him and tilt your head toward Changbin and the direction you were headed earlier.

Changbin buries the toe of his boot into the man's abdomen, sending him keeling over in another gasping fit, before he turns and follows you, offering you his arm once more.

Leaning his head against yours, he grins down at you. "Gods, princess. You're so fucking powerful."

You tilt your head and smile up at him, and he leans down to press his lips to yours in a searing kiss.

It's become the way he compliments you over all these years-all 'I love you' and 'I admire you' and 'I'm so lucky to have you' rolled up into one-and it means more to you than anything anyone's ever called you in all your eons of being the goddess of love.

Not pretty. Not perfect. Not precious.

Powerful.

And it's thanks to him, because he reminded you what it was like to be loved and cherished and respected, but he's right, it's always been there, all thanks to you.

[skyahri]

This is my current prompt list. Some are more developed than others and there's a few things I'm working on that aren't on here because, well, I just don't wanna share them lol. Feel free to use these as you will but please tag me! I appreciate the credit and I genuinely just wanna see what yall do with these.

MHA

Class 1A thinks Aizawa is lonely, so they steal his phone and download a dating app. Little do they know he's been married for almost a decade.

You and Bakugou reveal you're having a baby! You decide to surprise your friends before making it public, but it's turns out they didn't know you were even dating.

You'll be assisting Midnight and Thirteen in overseeing the female students at the UA Dorms. Upon meeting, Aizawa immediately dismisses you due to your less-than-professional style choices. Little does he know that your big smiles, frilly skirts, and cutesy heels are a stark contrast to your firm and assertive mindset.

Aizawa is picking Eri up from school when he runs into you- a classmates parent wanting to invite Eri to your daughter's birthday slumber party. For obvious reasons, Aizawa has reservations, but you offer to host them before hand to ease his worries. The whole thing seems terribly bothersome, but the pleading look in Eris eyes forces him to agree. Turns out, you're not so bad after all.

FTM Bakugou who is accidently outed by Inko Midoriya courtesy of baby pictures. Deku saves him in that moment, but he knows it's time to actually tell his friends. He starts with Kirishima.

(NSFW) You have a hybrid quirk and go through an estrus every six weeks after hitting sexual maturity. Still busy with your life as a third year UA student and unable to outsource your issue beyond the school walls, you look to someone just as pent up as you are. Luckily, Katsuki is more than willing to take the bait after you threaten to ask Deku of all people.

Pro hero Dynamite was spotted in public with a woman- wait, is that a wedding ring?! He'd done his best to keep you secret, not wanting you to experience the negativity associated with being romantically involved with someone famous. When fans find out, he prepares for the worst, but- wait... it seems they... love you? Possibly more than him, too!

(NSFW) After convincing Yagi to take over Aizawa's dorm duty tonight, you both make your way to a frat party being thrown at your college. He's definitely out if his element, but when his pretty little girlfriend begs him to dress up as Ghost Face and come along, he can't say no can he? Especially not when youre dragging him into the crowded kitchen for a drink and sit on the countertop, your short skirt riding up just a bit and- well, hes still a man at the end of the day. Too bad it's ruined by a handful of problem children who snuck out to be here. (All students are of age and in their third year. They just wanted to party lol)

Yamada finds a box of old pictures in Aizawas closet. When he comes across some from their teenage years, Aizawa remembers how happy you used to be before everything changed. When did you stop being... you?

(NSFW) A run of the mill mission goes sideways when the Villains have an unexpected player on their side. In an effort to protect your students from whatever mystery powder that's been thrown your way, you take the full force of what seems to be... sex pollen? You're able to save face for the remainder of the mission, but your composure is slipping quickly. Luckily, one of your coworkers is more than willing to help you deal with the... side effects.

Naruto

It's Kakashi's inauguration and Team seven is stoked! But wait, who's that woman standing next to their sensei at the podium?!

The village elders have been bothering Sasuke about reviving the Uchiha clan, going so far as offering to find a suitable candidate on his behalf. He initially declines, but as time goes on and he has yet to find a decent woman, he begrudgingly accepts.

Kakashi tasks his genin with watching over a civilian woman while he's away on a mission. Its simple enough, right? When he returns to the village and finds out they completely fumbled the mission, he's pissed. I mean how hard is it to keep his pregnant wife safe for three days?!

Kakashi has always seen his students as young, but has never thought of himself as old. Well, not until he's picking his kid up from school, where he runs into his former students, who are also picking their kids up. It doesn't help that Naruto and Sakura encourage their kids to call Kakashi 'Grandpa'.

Sasukes only friend is Naruto. That was fine when they were kids and practically only had each other, but now the blonde was a somebody, and that meant his time would have to be divided. Luckily you're around pester him in all the right ways.

(NSFW) Kakashi learns he has a size kink.

Tenzo is leading team seven back to the village, but he needs to make a stop first. It's a quick errand, one that will surely aid Narutos training, but might be a little difficult. They arrive at a house in the middle of the woods where you're already waiting for them. You look a little familiar, though. Almost like Pervy sage! (Jiraiya/Tsunade secret love child au lol)

Shikamaru is an attractive guy. He's handsome, smart, and cares deeply for his loved ones. Aside from how lazy he can be, there's nothing wrong with him. So why is it when he's seen around with you- the prettiest girl in the village- no one thinks anything of it?

Kakashi is wandering the village when he sees a new face moving into his apartment building, actually, right across the hall from him. When you turn around, he finally sees the baby strapped to your back. Being the gentleman he is (more so bored since his forced retirement), he helps you bring the remaining items upstairs. Then helps build them. And also takes you up on your offer for dinner.

Someone is messing with team seven, distracting them from their training. After spending all day trying to figure out who's behind the pranks, they come face to face with a little girl, hiding behind an oddly complex genjutsu in the trees. When captured and brought to their sensei, he taunts his students for getting bested by his six year old daughter.

ATLA

Zuko is tired of palace life, but as the Fire Lord, he can't exactly walk into town for a normal outting. He waits for the Autumn Mask Festival to sneak out, where he runs into you- a stranger willing to help him have as much fun as possible. Turns out you're the palace gardener, who immediately recognized him and decided to take matters into your own hands.

You're the decendant of an air nomad who was away from the temples to gather supplies during the raid 100 years ago. Your lineage is a well kept secret hidden smack dab in the middle of the fire nation and your parents have been diligent on passing down the knowledge of the air benders. When you hear of the avatars revival, you make your way to them and offer your teachings.

JJK

The kids having to tell their pseudo parents wives that they were KIA. Yuuji/Nanami, Megumi/Gojo.

Suguru Visits you one last time before he disappears, unknowingly leaving you pregnant. Its a secret you swear you'll take to your grave, but things get a little complicated when you start to see the curses hed been telling you about your whole lives. Then, at six years old, your daughter touches one of the creatures you'd been steering her away from, and it turns into an orb. You have no choice but to dig through Sugurus old things to find his phone and contact the one person you know could help.

Nanami lives across the hall from you. He's older, has a great job, and is a total buzzkill- but that only makes him all the hotter. Youre young, still in college, and incredibly annoying. He swears you speak another language- one chocked full of obscure references and inflated by flamboyant body language. You pester him in the halls and knock on his door to offer pastries at ungodly hours, so why did he hand over his phone so easily when you adk for his number? [Bonus!] Its been two months since your neighborly antics have turned into a full-blown friendship! You've spammed his phone with cacophony of memes and lore that he doesn't understand. You call him between classes and let yourself into his apartment to leave treats on his counter. He wants to be bothered, really, but can't find it in himself to be. You've just handed him an invitation to your masters ceremony- wait, what? His ditzy neighbor is getting her masters in aerospace engineering?!

Nosey teenage Yuuji is peering over his older brother, Sukuna's, shoulder and sees him texting a girl. He tells anyone and everyone who will listen, making them curious as to who this mystery woman could possibly be. Backed into a corner, he finally introduces you to, well, everyone, and they're shocked to find out youre a total ray of sunshine! Kind, bubbly, and a kindergarten teacher to top it off.

Sukuna, the King of Curses, is not a patient or forgiving man, but for some unknown reason, he allowed you to do as you pleased with him. You spoke freely and touched without permission, a gift youve never come close to abusing. One day he comes home from God knows what, in an obviously sour mood, and while you proceed with what you think is a good attempt to quell his anger, you're met with a slice to your cheek. It's minor, likely to not even scar, but the act is enough to cause a rift in your relationship and he has to find a way to mend it.

(NSFW) You're the best physics tutor at Yuuji's university and he's in desperate need of help. With more students than private rooms in the library, you settle on sessions at his unlces house. It's Saturday morning, you're gearing up to write an essay, only to discover you've left your laptop at his place- but that's no problem, because his uncle is home and can eat you in. Too bad he left out the part about how hot Sukuna is.

Lmao color-blind Heien Era Sukuna.

It's the middle of the night and you've been ditched by your friends at a club down town. With the last round of drinks kicking in and your phone battery running low, you call the only person guaranteed to be available on a Saturday night. Too bad that person is Yuuji's asshole older brother who's always been a little extra mean to you.

Nanami notices the shift almost immediately. In the five years you've been celebrating events at the nice restaurant down town, you've always ordered the salmon. Last time, however, you ordered steak despite how often you complain of red meat upsetting your stomach. Your occasional pining for sweet treats has become a nightly routine. A few bites of ice cream out of the freezer or something you grabbed from the konbini on the way home. Youve never used the restroom in the middle of the night before, but it's been a pattern the past two weeks. The final straw was your increased drowsiness. Youve always been an early riser, often beating the sun, but your internal clock has shifted forward. The addition of naps to your days does not go unnoticed by the blonde. You don't think much about any of these things until your husband is placing a box of pregnancy tests in your hand and asking you to trust him.

Suguru isn't sure why he agreed to a blind date set up by Satoru of all people. He's busy thinking of ways to politely escape whatever the blonde could have possibly sent his way, when he notices you taking the seat in front of his. He'd been expecting a loud, ditzy, party girl- not too unlike the ones his friend brings home on the regular- not this. No, youre obviously of higher class, someone closer to Satoru's status, if the quality of your clothing is anything to go by. You offer your name as well as your relation to Gojo, and its no surprise that your father's are long time business partners. By the end of dinner hes asking for your number, damn near vibrating in place as you type it into his contacts and send a little heart emoji to yourself so you have his too.

Your friends are complaining about men. You're happily listening, not having much to add since you're in a happy relationship, but one thing catches you're attention. "Isn't six inches kind of small?" Well, no, it's not. Apparently your boyfriend is very gifted, something you were unaware of since he's the only man you've ever been with. (Heavy Toji coded)

You don't know how you ended up here, sitting on the edge of Shoko's bed, bodies awkwardly contorted so your knees are touching hers. Her hand is in your hair, pulling you deeper into the kiss. She tastes like smoke, something so undeniably her.

In an attempt to prank Nanami, Gojo breaks into his apartment to leave a little something on his counter. As soon as the front door opens, though, he's met with a frying pan stopped just short of his face. He looks from the object to you- a civilian woman dressed in only a button down- but before he can say anything you're already retreating further into the apartment. It's easy to piece together that this intruder is like your husband, so you do as instructed and run into your room, hide under the bed, and call him. He's rushes home, nearly causing an accident in the process, and is pissed to find out the threat is only his annoying coworker. He coaxes you out of the room, open arms ready and waiting for the adrenaline drop youre sure to experience. When all is settled, Gojo's only defense is that he didn't know Nanami was married.

Toji has never felt old until he met you. You bartend at the club he frequents and after shooting his shot for what had to be the hundredth time, you finally agreed to a date. Then another. And another. And suddenly he was completely immersed in the world of his twenty four year old girlfriend. It was fun at first the drinking and dancing and partying- but he's not as young as he used to be and the liquor is catching up to him. At his wits end, he finally confesses that he can't keep up. Luckily for him, youre more than happy to stay in wit your old man boyfriend.

Baby daddy Sukuna who only recently got his shit together. You'd had enough of the in and out- the inconsistency, the empty promises, the lack of support- it was all affecting your daughter. He either needed to sober up and stay out of jail or you'd move forward with terminating his rights to your daughter.

Sukuna is in charge of the company while his father is in the states for the next month. His first order of business? Firing you- his father's bratty secretary. When Wasuke finally returns and sees his prized assistant gone, he panics, thinking his son drove you away. When he learns the truth, Sukuna is sent to beg for your forgiveness.

Streamer Sukuna, who plays first person shooters and horror games, collabs with you, someone known for their soothing minecraft asmr and animal crossing videos.

Gojo thinks you've been dating for the past year while you've been pining in secret, having no idea that this man was in wayyy deeper than you.

Gojo couldn't possibly be married, right? Then who was he on the phone with that could've had such an intimate contact name? That he was calling dear and love? Yuuji and Nobara are on the case! Too bad they could've just asked Megumi, who would've told them that his pseudo father is not just married, but a father as well.

Fairy Tail

You've known Laxus a long time, always by his side to support him, even if you didn't agree with his actions, and his banishment doesn't change that. One day during your travels, he tells you to stand by, that he can feel the guild pulling him and he'll be back soon. When a month passes and there's no sign of him, you venture back to the guild only to be met with terrible news. What's worse, is youre three months pregnant.

[keiradanielav]

The question

Price let out an exasperated sigh. He knew your phone addiction was annoying, but this was just the last straw. He snatched the phone from your hands, his expression serious and gruff. You were having a conversation—one-sided, but a conversation nonetheless.

“At least you could listen to me,” he muttered, slipping the phone into his pocket to keep you from taking it back. “I was asking if we had thought about having kids.”

Us. Idea. Baby.

You felt the heat rise to your cheeks as you looked at your husband. You had sex several times a week when he was home. It had been a while since you stopped using condoms, and, damn, it felt like heaven when you did. But the idea of having children with him had barely crossed your mind.

“I beg your pardon?”

Finally, some attention.

Price’s heart pounded slightly faster as he watched your cheeks flush a lovely red. The idea of seeing the woman he wanted to be the mother of his children blushing because of him ignited a deep desire in his gut.

He smirked slightly, his hand still firm on your thigh, his thumb pressing gently into the soft flesh. He leaned in closer, his breath hot against your ear as he spoke again, his voice low and sensual. He knew the effect he had on you when you sat on his thigh.

“Babies, darling, babies.”

“With who?” you asked in the dumbest way possible. Three years of marriage and three years of dating. Incredible sex since day one. The whole white picket fence idea. “With me?” you asked, watching your man’s face.

Price’s smirk grew at your words. He let out a soft chuckle at the silly question, his hand slowly sliding up your inner thigh.

“Obviously,” he replied, his gaze never once leaving yours. His fingers traced lazy circles on the sensitive flesh, the smirk still in place. “Who else would I want to have children with?”

Realizing how ridiculous your questions had been, you blushed even more and hid your face in the crook of your husband’s neck. His deep, raspy chuckle sent shivers down your spine.

“Forget that,” you mumbled, embarrassed.

Price wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling you even closer against him. He couldn’t help but chuckle softly again, enjoying the pleasure of teasing you.

“Nah, I won’t forget that. It was adorable.”

His hand slid up a little further, his fingers grazing the edge of your panties. Yes, not wearing shorts under your dresses definitely improved the communication between your bodies. He leaned in, his lips brushing against the shell of your ear before trailing kisses along your jawline.

“But in case you forgot, the question was about having babies. Think you can handle that answer, luv?”

DIVIDERS by enchanthings

Labor and delivery. GET ME OUT OF THAT ROOM. I quit. 😗😗😗

[loserlvrss]

CHAPTER1 ✶ Whoever You Became and Whoever You Thought You Should’ve Been ( 𝐃ong𝐇yuck )─────엔시티

( ɪˈpɪfəni ). ㅤ𓈒 ㅤ𓈒 life gives you a second chance with the man who understood, and never sought to change you 이동혁 &fem!rea. ⟡ series, angst, streamer!au, second chance love 𝐜𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬───language, mentions of food / not eating, depression & anxiety disorder ⸝⸝ chap. wc : 1403THOU 🗯LiBRARY

You've always been sure of yourself. That was never an issue. You always knew what you wanted and how to achieve the goal effectively. Yet, now you can’t even decide what to eat for breakfast—so you go without food most days.

The little girl you were would be disappointed in the mess she was looking up to. She’d be disappointed to have watched the walls of her castle crumble. She’d be disappointed to know that fairy tales were just stories made up by lonesome adults. You feared, she’d just be disappointed in you. You weren’t the person you thought you’d be by now. Well, actually, you thought you weren’t much of anything anymore. In reality, you’d lost all sense of whoever you became and whoever you thought you should’ve been.  

Yes, you knew that you’d been walking a fragile line; within everything. Your social life was crumbling, your career on the verge. The thought of romance was non-existent. You gently felt like you couldn’t breathe right anymore. Nothing was satisfactory. You never thought you’d watch things fall apart but, here you were watching it replay again and again every night. You couldn’t unsee or un-feel it no matter how hard you tried. 

You knew the risk taken but, sliding down a steep hill wasn’t in the 5-year plan. You, of course, couldn’t even regret what happened. You couldn’t regret giving it a try because, isn’t that what life is about? New experiences?

Yet, you still do. You still crave what you had and lost.

You were so confident but it seemed like everything changed just as quickly as it started. 

“Y/n! C’mon, dance with me!” A voice called out as a sashaying—painting worthy—woman made her way through a small crowd. She had smooth black hair and complimenting sharp features. “Please!” She begged, gripping your hand within hers and pulling you into the pile of people she’d just weaved between. 

Unfortunately, the beat-heavy music, that has been doing a decent job and drowning out your thoughts, had subsided into a slow-dance. Still, that didn’t stop her and she wrapped her arms around your neck, pulling yours up to mirror hers. 

We swayed to the music as she started speaking, “He’s not even here but, he’s still on your mind.” She didn’t roll her eyes visibly, however, audibly, it got the message across. “He’s not even worth your time anymore, babe! Who the fuck even is he? No one, exactly! Stop with the sad girl shit,” She pouted, “it’s supposed to be our hot girl summer.” 

“But I wanted taken-girl summer.” 

“No such thing!” She replied mockingly, “You’re too good for him anyways, I mean, look at you! You could have anyone you want crawling at your feet, yet, you still want him—a fucking twitch streamer? Oh my god,” 

Your eyebrows furrowed, more in sadness than confusion. The funny thing is, Alexa liked your relationship with Donghyuck. She was your number one supporter but, overnight, she became his number one hater. And, it’s not like you could blame her, it’s exactly the best friend thing to do. 

She was right though. Right now, you both were supposed to be celebrating her brother’s birthday but, here you were sulking over someone who wasn’t even close. Truthfully, you were sulking over him every and anywhere you went. It was pathetic, you knew that. It’s been months since you broke up. However, in hindsight, a few days wasn’t even allowed to compare to the two years you’d spent together. You wished that the hypothetical bad days outweighed the good ones but, they don’t compare. 

Donghyuck was always good to you. 

You weren’t always a vulnerable person, having to grow thick skin to survive. However, all it took was one funny boy to fuck up your life. He held part of your heart (still) and part of you would still give the rest back. Part of you would let him walk back into your life just as quickly as he left. 

You wanted to say that you and him were never getting back together but, that’s a door you feared would never fully close—no matter how long you stayed apart. 

“He’s not just a streamer, Lexa. You’ve got it wrong.” 

She cocked her head, “Tell me then, what is he?” 

You didn’t want to reminisce. You didn’t want to cross back over the bridge you worked so hard to crawl across. He was a core-memory you couldn’t escape and you knew leaving it in the past wouldn’t be so easy. You were his but he wasn’t yours. He still had a tight grip on what you wanted to do and where you wanted to go, even if you’ve fallen so far down his list of priorities. 

“He was good to me an—”

“Most people are good to you, Y/n! You’re fucking Y/n!” 

You bit your lip, “This was different, he understood me.” 

She huffed, readjusting her grip unnecessarily, “And? Anyone who understands you gets to call you their girlfriend for two years? I’ve known you for fifteen! What does that make me? I’ve seen this play out before, y/n, can’t you just listen to me this time?” 

You and her were much alike, externally stubborn, and you knew that if the roles were reversed she wouldn’t be acting all high and mighty. 

“You’re better without these stupid men who let you go!” She explained adamantly, trying to drill the message in deep, “You always get better.” 

Except, this time you couldn’t swallow your pride. He was different. He felt real in comparison to the flings you previously had and lost. He did understand and never looked at you like a hopeless girl he could save. You weren’t his challenge to fix. 

Because of that, he was the first person you could truly say that you loved. 

“When?” Your eyes glossed over, heart beating a physical pain throughout your chest. “When do I get better, Alexa?” 

She sighed, “When you let yourself.” 

You finally stopped abusing your bottom lip, letting it go. “What if this time it’s different?” 

She pat your cheek with the palm of her gentle hand—even if sometimes it wants to slap some sense into you. “It’s not. You’ll get over him, just give it some more thought.” 

But that’s all you’ve been doing. Giving him a thought, then another, and another, and another. It was a never ending loop you couldn’t escape the helpless feeling of. 

The rush of adrenaline was a scary thing. 

You tried a solemn smile, “Yeah, okay.” 

The only way to get her to stop was to agree—even if she knew it was fake. Somewhere deep down you heard her. 

And, it’s not like you didn’t want to move on, you just never thought you’d have to. If you’re being honest, you never thought you’d watch the two of you breakup like you did. You thought that if you ever broke up, it would have had to have been because of something awful. Yet, it was the complete opposite and maybe that’s why it hurt more than a little. You broke up mutually because even though it’s said that opposites attract, you weren’t so sure. Too different from one another to go on. You know now that the feeling inside of you for those years was only too good to be true. You should’ve known the storm would roll in at any second, sabotaging a sunny day. You should’ve known the whole thing would hit the fan and splatter against the wall. You should’ve known you would let your demons win. Donghyuck knew everything about you, and you should’ve known that to let him in meant letting them in as well. 

You hate how fast you switched sides, and how easily you gave in. That wasn’t like the old you but, you didn’t even know who the old you was anymore. And now, you had much less of a clue who the new you happened to be. 

You also had no insight on him. Sure, you could’ve pulled up one of Heachan’s (his online persona) streams. But, you gave him nothing, and got nothing in return. You acted like strangers so well one would think you’d actually never known each other. Just two people in the same circle. 

You didn’t want to yearn for a boy who didn’t even want you anymore. But, all you wanted was him.

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🐻📦ˊˎ- part one is lowkey primarily angst so strap in

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[luthqrs]

"Stop being so flippin' stubborn and let me look after you."

insp.